Haunted
by NativeMoon
Summary: A mysterious young girl a must navigate a formidable tightrope between her precarious existence in a Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the Wizarding world of Harry Potter. This is an intense story with occasional violence from the start. AU. The First of a planned Trilogy. Snape/OFC Lupin/OFC
1. No Sisters of Mercy Here

**Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.**

**Summary: A mysterious young girl a must navigate a formidable tightrope between her precarious existence in a Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the Wizarding world of Harry Potter. **_**This is an intense story with occasional violence. AU. The First of a planned Trilogy. Snape/OFC Lupin/OFC**_

_**Author's Notes: **_

_**This Alternate Universe HP story was inspired by real-life story of The Magdalene Sisters, their laundries and asylums of Ireland and the more than 30,000 women who were incarcerated and victimized in them in the 20**__**th**__** century alone. Factual details are behind the details of this fanon character. **__**If any aspect of the subjects covered are offensive to your sensibilities, then this is not the story for you.**_

**Haunted by NativeMoon**

**Prologue: Do Penance and Perish**

Ireland's Convent Magdalene Asylums and Magdalene Laundries were established in the mid-nineteenth century for the detention of prostitutes undergoing reform.

Following the arrival of the Good Shepherd Sisters in 1848, "Rescue Work" in Ireland underwent a change. Short-term lay refuges became long-term Magdalene Asylums, many of whose inmates were actively discouraged from leaving and were oftentimes detained for life because of the indefinite sentences of servitude. Many of the women dumped off with the Magdalene Sisters spend decades working the laundries and end up dying there. Labouring in the adjoining Magdalene laundries, unpaid workers were subjected to penance, harsh discipline and prayer.

As the numbers of prostitutes declined other "fallen" women became targets for Magdalene Asylums and Magdalene Laundries. These included unmarried mothers and wayward or abused girls – many being incarcerated by their families for having seemingly committed sexual sins; many fathers gave their legal consent to their flesh and blood's imprisonment. The Church had so strong a grip that parents would be complicit in the barbaric treatment of their own children.

Priests too, were often the driving force behind such detentions.

Women and girls were sentenced by the authorities in their lives with neither due process nor defense.

Magdalene Asylums and Laundries were institutions sponsored and maintained by the Catholic Church in Ireland for the incarceration of young women thought to be a moral danger to themselves and others – unmarried mothers or simply girls who were considered provocative, temptresses and whores, no better than they should be. The supposed philosophy behind the Asylums and Laundries was to cleanse the sins of impurity from these women's souls. The Church was not motivated merely by its peculiar brand of rescue and redemption; the Laundries were a lucrative business that boosted its coffers considerably. This earthly place where they could attain heaven was, in fact, a descent into a hell: equal parts sweatshop and prison.

Factual cases do include girls who were simply deemed too pretty and victims of rape and incest who dared speak of their trauma. Many such 'sins' were often the driving force behind enslavement in the Magdalene Asylums and Laundries which were nothing more than prisons disguised as convents. Their only sin of these women seems to have been the fact that they were women.

The women and young girls of the asylums and laundries were brutally were deprived of basic human rights and forced to survive in extremely poor living conditions. It is well documented that they were also routinely subject to institutionalised physical, emotional, psychological and sexual abuse from nuns and priests.

The suffering was relentless and in the extreme.

It is worthy to note that the system of Asylums and Laundries existed until the 1970's, but the last of them did not close until 1996. Only since then has the true horror of the conditions within these institutions been exposed.

This is the story of one such girl; a girl walking a formidable tightrope between her precarious existence in a Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the Wizarding world of Harry Potter.

**Chapter 01: No Sisters Of Mercy Here**

**The Summer Before Year One: **

_**One Month Before The Cardinal's Visit**_

"NOOOOOO! PLEASE! NOOOOOOOO! STOOOOOOPPPPP!"

Niamh Siobhan Caeoimhin was screaming from night terrors once again.

"Jaysis! Shut her up before Portress comes in here!" came an angry voice from across the dormitory.

"Niahm! Niahm! Wake up!" said Angela from the next bed over from Niamh's, leaning out as far as she dared.

"Oh Feck's sake, like that will do anything!" said another girl.

"Could have done that myself!" said the first girl from across the dormitory.

"NOOOOOO! PLEASE! NOOOOOOOO! DON'T HURT ME PLEASE!"

Niamh was now crying hysterically in her sleep, but not fully waking up.

One of them would have to get out of bed and shake her awake. At their own peril. God forbid any one of them was caught out of bed by a Sister or caught touching another girl even to help her.

Or worse.

Told on by one of the resident snitches when they were not caught.

Just as one of the girls had swung her legs out of bed a light went on in the hallway outside the locked room.

"Portess!" hissed a voice.

Niamh was on her own now, as she was most nights when this happened. Though it was routine, it never failed to put the fear of God into some of the other girls. What the hell could be going on in her head to make her scream like that? Besides the hell that was the Belfast County Magdalene Asylum and Laundry. They wouldn't be surprised if she was going mental. Wouldn't be the first time that happened even to one as young as her in this shytehole.

Niamh was only 12 years old.

There was the sound of the door being unlocked and slammed open. There was a sharp click and the room flooded with bright light.

"What is going on in here?!" roared Sister Portress. Portress was responsible for the girl's dormitories. A responsibility she could do without, especially because she had no time for the lowest of the low as these vermin were. There were a couple of notable exceptions. The unlucky chosen ones who got to share her bed as part of the redemptive process.

If you were smart you lay stock-still and prayed silently for Portress to not notice you and pass you by. There was not so much as a twitch from breathing as the 14 girls in this dormitory played dead. It was easy to do. You were as good as dead to be in this hellhole.

"NOOOOOO! PLEASE! NOOOOOOOO! STOOOOOOPPPPP!"

"Caeoimhin! Again!" roared the Sister. She'd had enough of her precious sleep being disturbed by one of the biggest Hoors in Magdalene.

_THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!_

Portress had taken her heavy wooden paddle and whacked Niamh hard across her back and buttocks.

"UP! YOU FILFTHY HOOR! UP!" roared the Sister as the unfortunate young girl jumped up out of bed from the shock of being violently and painfully awoken.

Niamh tried not to cry or shake. That would only make her punishment ten times worse. She wanted it to be over. But Portress was not a Sister of Mercy. Nothing about the woman was ever quick.

"GOWN AND PANTS OFF, NOW!"

The girl's hands shook so badly she could barely undo the buttons on the granny nightgown the girls had to wear.

The gown hit the floor and Niamh tried to cover herself with one hand as she hesitantly pushed down her underpants with the other.

_THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!_

Portress had whacked her hands hard so that they fell away from covering her breasts and genitals.

"Look at the little slut pretending to be modest," snarled the Sister.

Niamh couldn't help it; she started to cry. Rivulets of tears dripped down her cheeks and this only served to further infuriate Portress.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" roared the Sister. "I WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT YOU LITTLE HOOR!"

Niamh cried louder and Portress pushed her against the wall. She took the paddle and whipped Niamh until her flesh broke open.

Niahm screamed.

"SILENCE! NOT ONE WORD! NOT ONE! DO YOU HEAR ME!" roared Portress.

Blood oozed to the floor as Niamh's body shook from the pain of the beating.

The Sister beat her senselessly until she blacked out.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Niamh stood in the rear gardens of Magdalene hanging the freshly washed laundry. She was not aware of it, but she was being carefully observed. She had been for the past two weeks.

She could barely move without almost crying out in pain. Portress had taken to beating her mercilessly every night whether she cried out in her sleep or not. She was the resident whipping girl of the moment and the Sister seemed to take a peculiar pleasure in causing her pain. Things could always be worse. At least she was not taken to Portress' bed like Angela was.

There were welts and bruises on her flesh all over her back, buttocks and legs, some of which were not healing properly. Niamh was bleeding through her clothes in a couple of places. It was her problem. She wouldn't be getting any new ones – not that new clothes were ever an option anyway. Perhaps she would get lucky eventually. The good, god-fearing villagers sometimes donated clothing for the poor, wretched sinners of Magdalene.

_MEOW!_

Niamh looked around to see where the noise was coming from. She had moved too quickly – another wound re-opened and she cried out in pain.

_MEOW!_

Something soft was now rubbing against her bruised legs. Niamh looked down at the tabby cat purring against her. She looked around carefully and then gingerly reached down to pick it up.

"Hello, cat," she whispered softly. "I am not supposed to talk you know; not even to a lovely cat like you."

Niamh had a good look at it for a change. It had curious markings around its eyes.

"Hey Niamh," came a hoarse whisper from two rows down. "Wotcha got? Is that a cat?"

"Yes; the one that keeps getting in."

The cat kept finding its way into the Asylum and Laundry. It had been tip-toeing about for the past few days. Only Niamh and some of her mates were aware of this.

"Ooooo lemme see," whispered Jenny. She couldn't help herself; the animal was a welcome distraction and stimuli for their dulled senses. But God help them if they were not only caught slacking off from work, but speaking. The Magdalene order believed in absolute silence to bring you closer to God. Very rarely were the girls allowed to speak. They did it anyway, but only a great personal risk.

Niamh cradled the cat in her arms and allowed it rub its face against hers. Jenny grabbed at the tabby a little too roughly and Niamh cried out in pain.

"I'm sorry, Niamh – I didn't mean it! Are you alright?" asked Jenny quietly.

"It hurts," said Niamh blinking back tears. "That big sore on my arm isn't healing right; it keeps busting open."

Jenny had a look at the back of Niamh's dress.

"Jaysis! You're bleeding back here too! You need a doctor..."

"WHAT'S GOING ON OUT THERE?!" came a loud shout from just inside the laundry door.

Jenny scampered quickly and quietly back to her baskets of laundry still waiting to be hung.

It was the worst possible thing that could have happened. It was Theresa Clohessy. Everyone knew that Theresa was the biggest snitch in Magdalene. The sisters treated her like shyte just as they did the others, but for some unknown reason she sucked up to them though it did her no good. The girl had pretensions of joining the novitiate of the order in a year's time when she was of age.

Theresa stepped out into the yard even though she had her own work to do inside.

"Caeoimhin, you just love trouble don't you," she said as she glared at the younger girl.

Niamh didn't answer. She knew better. If she dared tell Theresa to even so much as piss off she would find herself getting another beating or worse. She'd already done long stretches in solitary twice in the last month. She kept her eyes on her work and soldiered on with her customary efficiency. It was the only thing that stood her in good stead; she worked hard. What else could she do with a minimum 12-hour workday? Like some, she got through as best she could. Better that than end up in one of the Asylum wards where they kept the lunatics. It was easier said than done.

"I'm talking to you, girl!" hissed Theresa. "What do you have to say for yourself you little bitch!"

Niamh didn't say anything and did not dare do the one thing Theresa wanted. Look at her. As far as Niamh was concerned Theresa didn't rate high enough for her to be bothered. But you couldn't say that. Not to Theresa Clohessy. You couldn't act like it either and Niamh was about to pay. She was on Theresa's bad side no matter what she did or how she did it.

As Niamh went to hang another of the priest's sheets, Theresa punched her in the face. When Niamh did not respond she was punched again.

Niamh's eyes began to sting and glisten with as yet unshed tears as she accidentally dropped the pristinely clean white sheet. She'd spent quite a bit of time scrubbing the stains off it using the old-fashioned washboard and tub that the Sisters insisted be used for the saintly priests of their brother order.

"Awwww, little baby want to cry? You little gobshyte!" Theresa hissed.

Niamh had been clocked right in the mouth and her bottom lip was bleeding where she'd be hit. There was no mirror around but it didn't take much to know that she was probably going to have a black eye too.

"WHY ARE YOU STANDING AROUND WHEN THERE IS WORK TO BE DONE?"

Just what Niamh needed.

It was the Mother Superior of the Order, Sister Angelica. The Sister loathed Niamh with a passion normally reserved only for the pious worship of her Lord and Saviour.

"You, inside!" she barked at Theresa before giving her a clout around her ears.

Sister Angelica spotted the now dirty sheet on the ground. Before Niamh had time to realise what was happening she found herself on the receiving end yet another beating with the Sister's preferred instrument of torture – the wooden paddle. Sister Angelica's was the worst; it was at least six inches thick.

"THE HOLY FATHERS SHEETS!" roared Sister Angelica as she beat Niamh for the fourth time that week. "YOU STUPID, CONTEMPTIBLE IDIOT!" Sister gave her a hard whack as added emphasis on each word.

The Sister even managed to get her once across the face, knocking her to the ground. The tabby cat, which had by then been sitting by the iron fence and gate to the yard, suddenly ran forward and jumped on the sister, clawing at her hands.

Sister Angelica dropped the paddle amidst her own howl of pain.

Niamh lay on the ground where she had fallen, tears streaming down her face as she cried and screamed from pain. The tabby cat stood at attention by her head, ready to attack the Mother Superior if she so much as looked like she was coming near the girl again.

The Sister went to kick the cat and was clawed viciously for her clumsy effort.

"You – INSIDE!" she roared at Jenny.

"Caeoimhin, you have one hour to finish this – NO MORE!" yelled the Sister, who could not resist giving Niamh a good swift kicking to the ribs while she was still on the ground, the cat be damned.

There was at least two hour's worth of laundry to be hung.

Niamh was damned no matter what she did.

There would be hell to pay when she could not finish it on time.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**An Important Visitation**_

Two gleaming black Mercedes had pulled up in front of the Asylum where Sister Angelica stood at attention. The immaculately uniformed driver opened the rear passenger-side door and held out a gloved hand. The Cardinal's lesser bodyguards emerged first and positioned themselves around the vehicles. Next from the Cardinal's own vehicle was his primary guard who assumed position by the rear passenger door where the Papal representative would emerge.

At last, out stepped the Vatican's secretary of state, Cardinal Marcello Andriotti. He was resplendent in the elaborate vestments as befitting one of the most powerful men in the Vatican and a close ally of the current Pope. There was a sigh as he regarded the gloomy buildings in his line of sight. Normally he would not have been bothered to be present at such a wretched place and would have handed the task to one of his groveling assistants.

This was no ordinary visit.

There was much at stake here. The very existence of the Church and the beliefs on which it was built and still existed were under threat, more so now than at any time in its history. However, this was not for the good Sisters of Magdalene to know. An agreement had been reached, much to his surprise. It was not often that the Vatican compromised its position on any issue.

This situation was an exception. The Roman Church was the real reason behind the split between the Wizarding and Non-Magical worlds several centuries ago and it was not common knowledge in either world. God's One True Church had too much to loose to engage such Satanic forces in battle yet again.

Cardinal Andriotti had not reached such a senior position for nothing. He was a very shrewd and cunning man; woe betides the fools that found themselves on the wrong side of his wrath. He would make it clear to the Mother Superior that she had no choice in the matter. There would be no discussion; no negotiation. He was here to deliver the direct orders of the Holy Father himself.

**XxxOOOxxX**

"Your Imminence," simpered Sister Angelica as she curtsied deeply and kissed his ring for the fifth time, "It is a great honour to…"

She was cut off to the quick from any more groveling.

"Sister, the Cardinal does not have time for extravagances," his assistant interrupted sharply. "He has other important matters which demand his attention shortly. There are only a few minutes to spare and then his Excellency must be on his way."

Sister Angelica did not appreciate being spoken to in that way. Her face looked as if she'd been drinking sour milk.

The Cardinal dismissed his assistant and the two bodyguards who had entered the building with him.

"I will get straight to the point," said the Cardinal smoothly. "In one week's time to this very day Niamh Caeoimhin is to be released into the care of a woman named Minerva McGonagall, Professor and Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Identification will be provided. Official Hogwarts identification from the school's Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. The girl is to spend the school year at the school and will return to you in June only for the summer months."

Sister Angelica looked as if she was having a stroke.

"I WILL NOT!" she roared, forgetting who she was talking to. The delusional woman presumed she had more power than she really had. "THAT WRETCHED HOOR IS AN ABOMINATION IN THE SIGHT OF OUR FATHER AND SON. SHE IS SATAN'S SPAWN JUST LIKE HER MOTHER WAS! SHE WILL NOT BE DELIVERED INTO THE HANDS OF EVIL!"

The Cardinal stood up and fixed her with a fearsome gaze.

The Mother Superior visibly shrank from his intensity.

"Your services have been duly noted over the years, Sister," said the Cardinal darkly. "However, this is not subject to debate or barter. These orders are from the very top. His Holiness will be most displeased that you question his infallible judgment."

_"The...Holy…Father?"_

"You are to have the girl ready for release. 10am in one week's time," said Cardinal Andriotti menacingly. "We have been keeping a close eye on you, Sister. Do not give myself or my associates reason to have to return to this place sooner than necessary. And once again, you will keep silent on the matter."

_"But…"_

"That is all, Sister!"

The Cardinal swept from the room in the care of his assistant and bodyguards, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Sister Angelica fell back into the expensive leather chair in her office where the meeting had taken place. She was furious and swore a blue streak aloud. The meeting itself and her reactions were duly noted by an unobserved intruder.

The Mother Superior looked out her large bay window at the preparations for the Cardinal to leave. As she did this, the tabby cat shot out of the room and made its getaway.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**A Matter Most Important**_

Minerva McGonagall returned to Hogwarts for the last faculty meeting before the start of term in a week's time. She had delivered a damning dossier on the Belfast Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the treatment of one of their incoming First Year Students.

Normally, none of the other Hogwarts teachers knew anything about incoming students except for Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. The Headmaster and Headmistress only discussed individual students with the four Heads of Hogwart's Houses after the sorting was done. As the Houses were called out by the Sorting Hat, a duplicate of each student's file appeared in the appropriate Head of House's office from Professor McGonagall. It would then be up to them to address any concerns with the Headmaster and Headmistress.

However, this was an exception. Due to the involvement of the Vatican the rest of the staff had to be made aware of the rather delicate situation. That and the young woman's peculiar domestic circumstances.

The Hogwarts professors sat in stunned silence. Each was filled with a multitude of questions and thoughts about what they had read in the report and heard from the Headmistress herself. There had also been Wizarding photographs of the institution and the girl herself. Shocking, heart-breaking photographs that were a testament to all that was in the report.

Of all the Professors, Minerva would have been most surprised to have been privy to the reactions of Severus Snap, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. Though his countenance was of his usual doom and sourness, inside the Potions Master was deeply affected by the shocking details of the reports. His own painful memories came flooding back to him and forced them into deep into his consciousness as was usual. Yes, he had suffered. Undoubtedly so; but he was never subject to anything like what he was reading and hearing.

For the only the second time in his life, Professor Snape actually felt a bit for someone else. The first had been for the late Lily Evans-Potter.

"It's an outrage, Albus," said Professor McGonagall. "All sorts of abuses against these girls and women. And this poor girl seems to be their favourite target. Not a day went by when she was not being assaulted in some fashion. I believe there was more to her treatment than what I was able to witness, but the only way to know that for certain would be from Miss Caeoimhin herself. She will need medical attention once she is settled, amongst other things. She is being punished for what she is; I have no doubt of that. They seem to be trying to beat the magic out of her…although only the Mother Superior seems to have any idea as to her origins…"

"Minerva," asked Professor Vector, Head of Arithmancy. "How can she possibly get on here if she has never been to school? Her schooling seems to have been substandard at the very least. I do feel sorry for the young lady…but it's not our job to teach her what she should already know. To do that would take years that we do not have."

"Tutorials would resolve the basics that particular issue," said Professor McGonagall. "I intend to give her an assessment and take it from there. She will undoubtedly require extra help with comprehension and the like so if anyone would like to help, please see me privately after we are finished."

"Someone with this kind of background is likely to have some serious problems," said Madam Hooch. "It's more than most of us can deal with given the demands we already have. Seems to me the girl would be better off in the Psych Unit at St. Mungo's than here…"

Professor McGonagall was highly offended at such a suggestion and told her so. If McGonagall was offended then Professor Snape was seething with rage though he did not show it. By Madam Hooch's standards even he would have never been allowed to come to Hogwarts – though no doubt that would have been more than agreeable to many who had passed through the castle over the years.

"What is all this business with the Vatican?" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "She has spent her whole life in that horrid place and now they get involved and let her go? And why are they even involved in the first place."

Professor Binns spoke up and droned on for 15 minutes about the split between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds and the involvement of the Roman Church.

There was a great deal of consternation at this news.

"The Vatican is the reason she was born there and remains there," said Professor Dumbledore solemnly. "We have attempted many intercessions over the years, however the Ministry saw fit to subvert our efforts. Until now. It took some doing, but I managed to make them see some sense."

"But why?" asked kindly Professor Sprout with wide eyes. "It doesn't make any sense Headmaster! Why hold the girl when their interests would be served by being rid of her? And why would the Ministry force one of our own to stay in that world and under such barbaric treatment?"

"I am taking steps to find out these details myself. I suspect the answers lie deep within the Vatican Secret Archives and the Ministry itself. Though I sit at the head of the Wizengamot, it is not enough for me to have full access to Ministerial dossiers."

There was silence.

"The one thing I know is this," said Professor McGonagall gravely. "Her mother appears to be Muggle-born witch handed over to the Magdalene Order after she fell pregnant with Miss Caeoimhin. She was very young herself and there was no mention as to the father. Anyway, the mother died in their custody while the young lady was still an infant; apparently from a seizure of some sort. I personally do not trust the information that we have been given by either side. And given what I myself know, I sincerely doubt it. I think it is safe to say that we don't really know. They young lady herself certainly doesn't. She is completely ignorant of these matters."

_"Merlin's Beard,"_ said Professor Sprout.

There was silence in the staff room as the Hogwarts colleagues digested all that had been discussed.

"If there is no other business, the meeting is adjourned," said Professor Dumbledore.

The Hogwarts colleagues could not get out fast enough.

Save one.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Professor Snape, who usually was amongst the first to bolt, lingered under the pretense of organising some papers and checking the wardrobe for extra robes.

"Yes, Professor?" asked Professor McGonagall looking up at the imposing figure behind the shadow which had fallen across her papers.

"I will tutor the young woman," said Professor Snape quickly. He wanted to get it over and done with. This was as highly embarrassing as it was unusual.

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows shot up almost into the bun on top of her head.

"You, Severus?!"

There was shock and incredulity in her tone. The Headmistress wished she had a recorder to capture this moment. Imagine that. Severus Snape was not only volunteering his services, he was volunteering to _help_ _someone_. Someone who was most unfortunate in life.

"Yes, _me_!" came the irritable answer in the Potions Master's usual sharp tones. "And if you don't mind I would much rather a fuss not be made!"

"Certainly, Professor Snape," said Professor McGonagall stifling a smirk as he swept from the room.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**The Second Coming**_

Niamh did not know what she had done wrong. She was being punished for all sorts of infractions both real and imagined on the part of the Sisters and their stooges. This last week had been one of the worst she'd ever had in Magdalene and that was saying something.

"Caeoimhin! Mother Superior's office – NOW!" roared Sister Mary who was one of those in charge of the Laundry.

Niamh did not dawdle though she would have dearly loved to. She was in for more punishment, probably for more things she was not at fault for. More than one she'd had the distinct impression that Mother Superior sought to punish her just because she existed. Niamh didn't ask to be born…and certainly not in this place. Nothing would make her happier than to just be wiped from the face of the earth.

Niamh gently knocked at Sister Angelica's door.

"ENTER!" came her sharp voice. Mother Superior was furious. This was not going to be easy…not that it ever was.

The Sister was most displeased at the Devil's Disciple who occupied the sacred space of her office.

Niamh stepped resignedly into the room with her eyes on the Sister, awaiting the blow which was sure to come.

_"Niamh Caeoimhin?"_

Niamh turned around.

Her mouth fell open at the sight of the stranger who had spoken her name and was handing her an envelope.

_"I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be coming with me."_


	2. The Devil's Own

**Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.**

_**Author's Notes: **_

_**This Alternate Universe HP story was inspired by real-life story of The Magdalene Sisters, their laundries and asylums of Ireland and the more than 30,000 women who were incarcerated and victimized in them in the 20**__**th**__** century alone. Factual details are behind the details of this fanon character. **__**If any aspect of the subjects covered are offensive to your sensibilities, then this is not the story for you.**_

_**I respectfully dedicate this story to the victims and in no way mean to insult their experience.**_

_**This is an intense story and rated R.**_

**Haunted by NativeMoon**

**Chapter 02: The Devil's Own**

**The Summer Before Year One:**

_**Four Days Before Year One Begins**__: _

_"I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be coming with me."_

Niamh stood in shock, unable to accept the reality of the dark stranger now standing in front of her. The dark stranger who was delivering her from her own personal hell.

"She's a simpleton! An idiot! What good is any education to such an evil soul!" roared Sister Angelica. "Teaching Satan's Spawn the Devil's work!"

If she thought that she had any influence with the Potions Master she was very much mistaken.

"Not only do I not recall asking for your opinion; I am not of the same mind with regard to the young lady! As I see it the sooner she is gone from this place and you the better off she will be!" roared Professor Snape.

He turned to Niamh who could not help but to be awed. No one ever dared so much as to look at the Mother Superior cross-eyed let alone raise their voice and in front of a witness.

"You need to get packed; show me to your dormitory."

"NO MAN WILL EVER SET FOOT IN THE DORMITORIES! YOU VILE, EVIL CONTEMPTIBLE MINION OF HELL!" screamed the Mother Superior.

Professor Snape rounded on his and Niamh's tormentor and whipped out his wand holding it to her neck.

"One more word and I will not be responsible for what happens next!"

Sister Angelica literally shrank back from fear and went silent.

"Show me to your dormitory. The sooner you are packed the sooner we can leave," said Professor Snape to Niamh gently.

"I will have you! I will have you for this Caeoimhin!" said the Sister who was plainly loosing her mind.

"Cardinal Andriotti and Professor Dumbledore will find my report of this incident most interesting," hissed Professor Snape. "One more time; speak out of turn one more time and it will be the last time you ever speak! YOU WILL NOT THREATEN HER! KEEP PUSHING YOUR LUCK AND YOU WILL HAVE ME TO ANSWER TO!"

The Sister went on another vicious verbal assault against Niamh and _POP_!

Her mouth disappeared.

_CRASH_!

She fell to the floor, unable to move.

"Show me to your dormitory. Now please," said Professor Snape quietly to Niamh.

He sealed the doors and windows to the Sister's office behind him. He would sort her out just before they left.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Professor Snape looked at the tiny pile of stained ragged clothes on Niamh's rickety bed and frowned. They were no better than what the poor girl was wearing.

"Is that all you have? Is that all they have given you?" he asked with more than a touch of anger to his voice.

Niamh literally stepped back from him. She thought she was going to get hit.

Or worse.

Professor Snape caught the look of abject terror on her face.

_'I must be very careful with her – Gods, I would never hurt her. I can see it will be a long time before she ever trusts me in that way…'_ he thought to himself.

"I'm sorry; my anger has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with how they treat you. Leave these things. We will purchase some new ones when we get to London," he said aloud.

Niamh was in shock. This stranger was apologising to her and was being nice? There must be a catch. Something he wanted. No one was ever nice without wanting something.

"Why – why are you being nice to me? Why did you do that to Sister? What do I have to do?"

_'Merlin's Beard – what else have they done to her?'_ he thought.

Severus Snape was a lot of things; but he was most definitely not the sort that would ever harm a child in the way that this poor girl had been harmed. He was not an abuser, not like that. The Potions Master looked as horrified as he felt. This was quite a lot for a man who tended to keep his emotions to himself. This was not going to be easy. No not at all. She had so much to learn. Much more than he'd imagined.

He tried not to stutter and stammer over his words. In her position she had every right to question him. The Potions Master just wished she'd had a much better life than what the Roman Church had given her. She obviously had never had a chance to be a child in every sense of the word.

"I – I don't want anything from you. I can only imagine what you are used to – but there are many people in the world who would never do such things. I am one of them though you undoubtedly find that hard to believe. I don't expect anything for the kindness I show you."

This was most unusual – for Severus Snape was not in the habit of being kind to anyone. He had even managed to surprise himself at how much he seemed to care about the young lady even before setting eyes on her. Niamh had much to learn about her newfound self-appointed Guardian Angel. In this moment she could not appreciate how special she seemed to be to the Potions Master. She was special and this was just the beginning of a most extraordinary relationship that would change them both profoundly.

"What do you want with me? Why am I leaving then? No one without a family to go to gets to leave unless it's for something else…"

Professor Snape sighed.

_'Merlin's Beard – this is so bloody difficult…'_ he thought to himself.

There was an old chair by one of the dormer windows. He pulled it over to Niamh's bed and he sat down.

"Sit," he commanded.

Niamh still regarded him with suspicion, but sat on the edge of her bed, ready to jump if he so much as moved an inch near her.

The Potions Master was nothing if not astute; he knew exactly what her words and behaviour meant. Still, he was devastated that anyone could regard him in that way though this time his feelings did not show on his face. Once again, he kept them in check.

He was going to have to tread very carefully here.

"There is a whole other world that you are not aware of. You are a Witch, Niamh. What I just did – to that horrid woman – was witchcraft. And before you say it – it most certainly is not the Devil's work. There is no such thing as a Devil for a start; certainly not in the way that you have been taught."

Niamh's mouth dropped open and then she cocked an eyebrow.

"How come we are told differently then?"

Professor Snape chuckled in spite of himself.

"That is a complicated question, to which there are several answers. In my opinion, the simplest explanation is this; to keep you ignorant, therefore keeping you down and dependent. Non-magical people have a multitude of questions about their existence and purpose. Religion exists to give them answers. The Roman Church is – ahh – quite keen on providing answers."

"Well – they are the wrong answers then…" said Niamh.

She wasn't used to being talked to like she wasn't stupid. Whoever he was – he was nice. That had to count for something.

There was yet another chuckle.

"How right you are Miss Caeoimhin," said Professor Snape. "Non-magical men and women waste their whole lives chasing those answers. And when their lives come to an end they are no closer to the truth than when they started. Your Mother Superior is the prime example. She and those like her are blind to the truth. Here I am – living proof of the lies they tell. What did she do? Did she question what she herself knows is a lie? No. You are proof of their lies and I have no doubt that this has a lot to do with how you have been treated here. You are a magical being. It is in your blood and you have within you a magical core. Something special all your own. No other witch or wizard's is like it. You do not belong in this place. You belong in the Wizarding world with others like yourself."

This was too much for Niamh. She looked down at the envelope in her hands. There was no point in opening what she could not read.

Professor Snape couldn't help himself; he looked at her tenderly. He had wanted her to receive her letter herself, just as the other students would. Why should she have to be any different because she could not read and write? Nonetheless, she was different. Very much so. His presence was a testament to that.

"Would you like me to read it to you?" he asked softly.

Niamh suddenly felt very ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly looking down at her worn-out shoes. "I'm sorry I'm so stupid."

"You most certainly are not stupid; and there is no need to apologise," said Professor Snape without hesitation. "It is not your fault that they do not see fit to educate you."

"I don't belong in school. They will all laugh at me. No one wants anyone around as thick as me."

"You will be able to read and write when the term starts. And I will be your tutor. You are bound to have questions and I will do the best I can to help you. If you let me."

He then read the contents of the letter aloud.

"How do I know this isn't a massive wind-up," said Niamh defiantly.

Magic or no magic, there had never been anyone she could trust. Especially those who'd insisted they were trustworthy. To be fair, the professor had done no such thing. He seemed to be determined to prove himself to her.

"How do you know it is," came a plain answer.

Niamh sighed.

"Got me there. You win."

"No Niamh; for the first time in your life _you_ win."

**XxxOOOxxX**

Professor Snape was as good as his word. He returned Sister Angela to her usual foul-mouthed state in the presence of Niamh.

"The instruments and other items," he said to Sister Angelica. "Where are they woman?!"

_"I don't…,"_ she started to say malevolently.

Again Professor Snape's wand went to her throat. He looked positively murderous.

The Sister fumbled with her keys and walked over to a locked closet.

Professor Snape aimed his wand at the door.

_"Alohomora!"_

_Click_!

The door was open. She should consider herself lucky that he chose not to blast it open.

"Go – get your mother's things," Professor Snape said gently to Niamh.

She shook her head _'no'_ and tears started streaming down her face. She desperately wanted her mother's things. She always wanted them. Sister would only rarely allow her to see or touch them. Only when Church officials were about here or Niamh was summoned to the Brotherhouse.

Professor Snape was shocked at her reaction. Niamh looked frightened. No doubt to the fearsome looks they both were getting from Sister Angelica. They would have to have a talk about this but now was not the time.

He pointed his wand at Sister Angelica.

_"GET THEM – NOW! DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO TELL YOU AGAIN DAMN IT!"_

She took her sweet time going to the closet. As she drew near Professor Snape gave her a shove.

"I am warning you, dear lady, you push your luck once too often. One day it will be your last, perhaps sooner than you think – mark my words."

Professor Snape had no idea in this moment just how true that was. Niamh would have rejoiced at the knowledge.

The Sister threw a guitar and flute case at Niamh along with a satchel.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" she yelled.

"Have a look, Niamh," said Professor Snape quietly. "Is everything there that should be?"

He already knew what the items were from the Ministry of Magic, but was determined that Niamh have some power in this situation.

Though her hands were shaking like mad, Niamh looked through the guitar and flute case first. Everything was as it should be, including the tin whistles in C and D that were in with the flute. She turned her attention to the satchel.

"Her jewellery is gone and their box. Plus her music box," she said in a shaky whisper.

Tears started streaming down her face again as she sat helplessly on the floor.

The Potions Master hexed the sister to within an inch of her life. Niamh was once again shocked; but she would not have stopped the professor. No way. She had to admit it, Professor Snape was very impressive; and he most definitely was not someone to get on the wrong side of.

_"HOW DARE YOU!"_ he roared. _"WHERE ARE THEY?!"_

The Sister had no choice but to give in. She was unable to stand because of all the hexing let alone walk.

"The safe," whispered Niamh tearfully. "She probably has them in her safe. Under that table with the long cloth over it."

Professor Snape blasted the safe open.

"Go get your mother's things, Miss Caeoimhin," he said firmly as he reached down and pulled her off the floor and nudged her towards the safe. "It is up to you to claim what is yours."

The inmates and even other Sisters of Magdalene could only have ever dreamt such a thing. Everyone knew that all of the money for the order plus Sister Angelica's other interests were in that safe. No one was paid for working in the Laundry.

Niamh nearly tripped as she walked. She failed to hide her astonishment at the contents revealed to her. Stack upon stack of money in large bills. There had to be thousands that the Sister was keeping for herself. Besides the money, there were a number of personal items that most certainly belonged to other inmates; things that had value in one way or another. There was no doubt that Sister Angelica also held onto things simply because she could and because she caused much pain in doing so. It was one massive power trip for her.

Niamh wished she could take what belonged to the others and give them to their rightful owners. The only interests she could look after were her own; she took only her mother's things despite the temptation of the money. The young girl checked the contents of the jewellery box and looked over the music box before giving it a little test to make sure it still worked. All was as it should be. She held them close; they were all the riches of the world to her. Once they were packed away she and the professor could leave.

Professor Snape had had more than enough of this wretched place and this horrid woman. He took the added precaution of wiping the Mother Superior's memory of what he'd done to her before they left and shredded the money. The only thing that Sister Angelica would recall is that he had come to take Niamh. However, she would not recall that certain items had been in the safe. All hell would break loose when she discovered that her precious money was in tiny bits and pieces, completely useless to her. The safe had been repaired with no signs that it had ever been opened.

Once the Sister was situated he and Niamh were on their way.

Their first destination was London.

**XxxOOOxxX**

"It's best if you don't mention those – ahh – _rather unfortunate accidents_ with your Mother Superior to anyone," said Professor Snape as they walked briskly towards a wooded area a few miles away. He held the guitar case and satchel while Niamh took the flute case and his travel case which was a good deal smaller than her mother's satchel. They would be going to suburban London by Portkey and from there would take the Underground to and Inn called The Leaky Cauldron.

Niamh gave him a sharp look.

"Did something you weren't supposed to then eh?"

"Something like that, yes."

"I won't tell. It was funny," said Niamh. "The old bitch got what she deserved."

If the professor was a 'minion of hell' then she would take his version of it over Magdalene's 24/7.

It may have been funny, but to look at her one would never have guessed. She did not laugh let alone smile, not even so much as a crack. There was something very sad about her. This was a girl who had never known happiness – ever. If ever there was a figure of despair and loneliness it was Niamh.

Professor Snape sighed.

"Such language is most unattractive coming from you. Kindly restrain yourself in my presence," he said firmly.

There was no reaction except for the slightest of nods

"Can I ask you something, Sir," said Niamh after a lengthy silence.

"Anything," said Professor Snape without hesitation. "I will do my best to answer any questions you have."

It was true. He would.

"How can I learn how to read and write in a few days? Is there magic for that like what you did to Sister Angelica?"

"Not exactly. There are several potions which should suffice. I will administer them to you once we are situated in London."

"Potions?"

"Magical brews that you drink. I have one each to open up your abilities to read and write and also one for numeracy – mathematics."

Niamh looked suspicious once again.

"They won't hurt you," said Professor Snape gently. "What they will do is bring you to where you would have been had you been at school already."

Niamh nodded, but her attitude was clearly one of 'wait and see'.

"Why did you do that to all that money? Most people would have taken it…"

Professor Snape could not fail to hide his surprise.

_"I am not most people."_

He would not have touched that money for all the gold in Gringott's.

"She did not earn it and has no right to it. I know quite a bit about the Magdalene Asylums and Laundries and how they are run. None of you will ever see so much as a pence for your work. She fills her coffers from your blood and suffering. If you can't have what is rightfully yours then neither will she or anyone else!"

"She will just fill it up again," said Niamh dismally. "She has other ways of earning too…not that anyone would ever believe it…"

Niamh remained quiet. She had nothing else to say about _that_. But, she had said enough. The Potions master was nobody's fool.

Professor Snape gave her a curious look, and decided not to pursue the line of questioning begging for release. He just could not find it within himself to ask about what seemed quite obvious to him. Some things were best not spoken of at present.

"The Sister will always find her blood money turned virtually to dust unless she gives it to those who have earned it," he said aloud matter-of-factly.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**Later That Day: London**_

Professor Snape took a moment for Niamh to get her bearings once they'd arrived in outer West London. They had landed in a thick clump of trees in a rather dense wood. He had purposely chosen this area because of its desolation. Despite this, they were still within reasonable proximity to public transport. It was a much shorter distance to walk than the first part of their journey.

"Are you alright," he asked.

Travel by Portkey was never easy; especially from one country to another. He was genuinely concerned about her. Niamh could sense it though his voice and manner did not give it away.

"I feel a bit dizzy…"

"Sit – we have plenty of time," said the professor as he took a seat on a large boulder once he'd dusted it off.

They both rested in silence until Niamh's dizziness had passed.

"I'm fine now..." she said after 15 minutes had passed.

They set off once again.

It was little more than 20 minutes to the nearest Underground station. Professor Snape purchased weekly Travelcards for each of them and then showed Niamh how it worked. There were some sniggers and rude comments from a gang of teenagers as they took in the sight of the misbegotten waif standing on the platform.

"Goddamn – _what the hell is that_?!" said one girl incredulously.

"Fucking hell – I wouldn't show my face in public…" said another.

"You call that a face?! Enough to make me puke!" said a boy. "Looks like she got her arse kicked by an ugly stick!"

"Ugly little bitch…how would you like to fuck that Kevin?" said another.

"You'd have to be blind, numb, dumb and desperate to want to fuck that…"

"Ugly girls are the best lays though and plenty hard up – bet she'd be hot for you Kev…"

There was laughter and more name-calling all around. Kevin was not amused and the vitriol towards Niamh got worse.

Professor Snape looked worse than murderous. For one moment he'd almost forgotten himself and very nearly whipped out his wand. Only a delicate hand of Niamh's on his arm and her desperate pleas had stopped him.

"I'm used to it by now – please let it go…I'm alright…honest," she whispered anxiously.

Niamh did her best to ignore the taunts; she just wanted to be left alone. But the professor knew that she was lying. The young girl was blinking back considerable tears. There was no denying she was hurt. The teenagers got even rowdier and Professor Snape moved to the other side of her to block their view. The pack of youths added to the abuse and now included him as well.

The Tube train finally pulled into the station and the Professor and his charge stepped in the nearest car. Mercifully, the gang had to wait for the next train. The car that he and Niamh were in was very crowded and they had no choice but to stand. There were a couple of gasps and some unpleasant looks from some of their fellow travellers at the sight of the young girl.

The tears that Niamh had been holding back finally fell. She was pushed against Professor Snape by the jostling crowd and silently cried into his chest. He was leaning against the rear door leading to the next car. The one hand which had been grasping Niamh to keep her from falling over, pulled her closer. His arm now encircled her protectively as he glared menacingly at his fellow passengers, most of whom were adults.

Had anyone from the Wizarding world seen this they would have been astonished beyond belief. Such a display of affection – and so public a one – was just not what anyone was used to from Severus Snape. This was due largely to the fact that he himself was loathed, if not outright despised, and no one allowed themselves to see any other side to the man any more than he allowed himself to show it. Why should he reveal something other than his usual irascible nature to people who regarded him so negatively? They saw and thought what they wanted. He was no fool; nothing he could do would ever change their minds. Though were he completely honest with himself he would have had to concede he was as broken as Niamh was is in his own way.

Professor Snape ignored the crowd and looked down at the inky black head of his charge. Her face was scarred just as the rest of her from the beatings and hits she had taken over the years. One of their first orders of business was a visit to the _ 's-St Swithin's Clinic & Spa for Magical and Non-Magical Maladies_. Professor Snape was determined to do something to ease this aspect of her considerable suffering.

_"The next station is…Bank,"_ said an automated voice over the intercom system.

"That's us, Niamh" said the professor softly.

She looked up at him gave a slight nod. She had cried 20 minutes of the 45 minute journey. No one would be happier than her to be behind closed doors once again where she would not offend anyone. Well – where she would try not to offend anyone.

Once again, Professor Snape was caught off guard by her eyes. Niamh's eyes were the most startling thing about her and were themselves hauntingly beautiful. They were an almost ethereal shade of violet. If eyes were mirrors of the soul, then hers was a very old soul. There was something about those eyes which pulled you in and held you close, though the face that surrounded them did not.

Severus Snape was not one to be fussed by so-called conventional beauty. He himself was not what anyone had considered particularly attractive and he'd never been fussed about his appearance. His looks were derided as a Hogwarts student and not much had changed as an adult. He knew what many of the students who passed throughthe hallowed halls of Hogwarts thought of him and told himself that he didn't care. There were plenty of admirable qualities to recommend him, not the least of which were his intelligence and prodigious talents with Potions and creating Spells.

If he was honest with himself, it was rather nice being with someone that neither despised him even from the outset nor whom recoiled from him, even in his worst moments. And he'd most certainly shown more than enough of his bad side in Ireland.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**The Leaky Cauldron**_

Niamh could not escape looks here and there even in the Leaky Cauldron. Still, she was much better looking than the three hags and two ghouls sitting in a dark corner gossiping over Firewhiskey. Even in the Wizarding world ugliness had its pecking order.

"Errrrr you're at the top Professor. All booked up you see…" said Tom, the attendant. "But nice and quiet up there. It's a suite too; two small bedrooms and a little sitting room. Cosy-like."

He was trying hard not to stare at the young girl with the Potions Master. He'd never seen one who looked so bad as her before – in a human being. You could expect anything with non-humans…but her; she took the biscuit she did. What the hell would Snape want with one like her?

_'Wouldn't do it blindfolded meself,'_ he thought to himself. _'Leave it to the likes of him…no one else would have her…or him for that matter. Two bedrooms – who does he think he's fooling?'_

"That will be acceptable," said Professor Snape sharply through clenched teeth with a venomous look as he signed the register and paid their bill in advance.

Sometimes Tom wondered if the Greasy Git of Hogwarts could read minds.

"Errr can I get you or the young lady anything Professor?" asked Tom once he'd taken them to the very top of the building where their suite was and handed over two sets of keys.

"No, we can manage…"

"Alrighty then – tap for anything you need as usual. Good day, Professor."

**XxxOOOxxX**

Tom had not exaggerated. The suite, such as it was, was cosy with its quaint sitting room. The two small bedrooms shared one even smaller bathroom and overlooked a quiet courtyard in back of the pub. The sitting room did as well. It was very peaceful and quiet without the din of either Diagon Alley or the Muggle street to the front of the building.

Niamh stood in the middle of the sitting room, not knowing what to do with herself. She'd never been in a situation like this before where she wasn't expected to do anything.

"Why don't you pick your room," suggested Professor Snape. "I will have the other one…"

Niamh nodded and walked hesitantly towards the rooms. She partly expected Professor Snape to rush at her, but he didn't. He sat in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace in the sitting room waiting for her to return. She looked at both rooms. It was unbelievable; she would have an entire room all to herself. No sharing with 13 other people.

One of the rooms was a deep Rose colour – almost quite feminine in decor. That would be for her, she decided. The other one was nice in rich shades of purple and and royal blue.

_'Much more suitable for a man,'_ she thought to herself, though purple was her favourite colour.

She walked back to the professor.

"I'll have the girly room if that's ok?"

Professor Snape couldn't help himself. He chuckled yet again.

"No doubt I owe you my eternal gratitude for saving me from such a horrible fate as sleeping in a _'girly room'_ for the next few days…"

Niamh sat down in the other chair across from him.

Was it his imagination or did he detect a hint of a smile from her?

"Can I have those potions of yours now?"

The Potions Master was startled. He'd expected a fight of some sort to get her to take them. He did not expect that it would be _this _easy.

"If you would be so kind as to retrieve them from my travel case – they are in the box on top my things…"

Niamh raced to his room where she had put his case on the bed and returned with the box.

"What would you like first? Reading, writing or arithmetic?" asked Professor Snape.

Until the night before such potions had not existed before in the Wizarding world. Ever. This was as big a moment for him as it was for Niamh. She had inspired him to do something which had never been done before. He silently hoped that they all worked the way he expected them to. His colleagues at Hogwarts did not have faith in his abilities. The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall were the exceptions.

"Reading…I've always wanted to be able to read…"

He handed her a small purple bottle.

"In one go…no sipping."

Niamh opened the bottle and sniffed. It had a strange smell, but not an unpleasant one. She downed it in one gulp and licked her lips.

"That was actually quite nice…" she said holding out her hand for the next one.

"That was a blueberry and blackerry based potion with Panax ginseng and some ingredients from my private stores. What would you like next?" said Professor Snape with an uncharacteristic smile.

It pleased him that Niamh was entrusting herself to him in this way. It was a huge step forward for her and he was quite proud to be the one person that helped her.

"Mmmmmm writing I guess…makes more sense…"

He handed her a small amber bottle. Niamh didn't even bother to smell it this time. She downed it in one go.

"Mmmm that was lovely."

"I hope so – it's a chocolate based potion…with Siberian ginseng, spearmint and vanilla amongst other things."

"Chocolate?"

Professor Snape looked at her somewhat incredulously.

"Haven't you ever had chocolate?"

Niamh shook her head 'no' feeling stupid again.

"I'm sorry – I didn't mean anything by that. I am just surprised…" said the professor once he realised what he'd done.

"Nothing but porridge and broth with hard bits of old bread at Magdalene…"

"Merlin's Beard…" Professor Snape mumbled under his breath as he handed Niamh the last bottle.

This one was red. Again she downed it in one go.

"That was nice too…"

"Mainly almond and raspberry with Gotu Kola…" said Professor Snape. "Now to put it to the test."

He pulled out a book of Shakespeare's Sonnets complete with illustrations and opened it up at the bookmark. It was Sonnet 18.

"Read that for me please…"

Niamh took a deep breath. She felt stupid. "Here goes nothing…" she said and then began to read aloud:

'_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this and this gives life to thee.'  


"Jaysis, Mary and Joseph!" said Niamh with a big smile. "It worked! It actually worked! I can read!"

"Can you analyse it line by line for me?" asked Professor Snape with a big smile of his own.

Niamh re-read it twice and thought for a bit. Ten minutes later she was ready for her analysis.

"_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_ Shall I compare you to a summer's day?

_Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_ You are more lovely and more delightful:

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_ Rough winds shake the much loved flowers of May

_And summer's lease hath all too short a date:_ And summer is far too short:

_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_ Sometimes the sun is too hot,

_And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;_ Or often goes behind the clouds;

_And every fair from fair sometime declines,_ And everything that is beautiful will lose its beauty,

_By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;_ By chance or by nature's planned out course;

_But thy eternal summer shall not fade, _ But your youth shall not fade,

_Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;_ Nor lose the beauty that you possess;

_Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,_ Nor will death claim you for his own,

_When in eternal lines to time thou growest:_ Because in my eternal verse you will live forever:

_So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,_ So long as there are people on this earth,

_So long lives this and this gives life to thee._ So long will this poem live on, giving you immortality." *

Professor Snape was astonished. His potions had only brought Niamh to where she would have been with a sound Muggle education. This ability to analyse – and so well – was a confirmation of the girl's own formidable intellect.

_'Damn them to their Muggle hell from keeping her from being all that she can be,'_ he thought to himself.

"Well done! Can you take it any further; can you summarise it?" he asked gently.

"He seems to take pride in stating things in a complicated way…" said Niamh with a frown.

"You are not the first to make that observation…."

"Help me please, Professor…"

Niamh was feeling a bit overwhelmed at all of this.

_"[Line 9] - The friend's 'summer' or 'prime of life' will remain eternal because the poet immortalizes her in verse. Lines 10-14 confirm this reading._

[Line 12] - Because of the poet's verse the friend will actually grow as one with time ("to time thou growest").

Sonnet 18 is perhaps the best known and most well-loved of all 154 poems. It is also one of the most straightforward in language and intent. The stability of love and its power to immortalize the poetry and the subject of that poetry is the theme.

The poet starts the praise of his dear friend without pretension, but he slowly builds the image of his friend into that of a perfect being. His friend is first compared to summer in the octave, but, at the start of the third quatrain (9), the friend is summer, and thus, has metamorphosed into the standard by which true beauty can and should be judged. The poet's only answer to such profound joy and beauty is to ensure that his friend be forever in human memory, saved from the ultimate oblivion that accompanies death. He achieves this through his verse, believing that, as history writes itself, his friend will become one with time (or, more informally, keep up to time). The sonnet reaffirms the poet's hope that as long as there is breath in mankind, his poetry too will live on, and ensure the immortality of his muse; his muse who is this friend." said Professor Snape. *

"It's a lovely sentiment…" said Niamh as she handed the book back. "That was some friend to have inspired this Shakespeare in such a way…what an interesting relationship they must have had. They seem to have been amazing people as individuals and together…"

"No keep it; it's for you," said Professor Snape quietly as he went through the motions of looking in the box.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**The Clinic**_

Niamh did well with her writing and numeracy tests. The potions had done exactly what Professor Snape had designed them to do. Both were quite pleased with the results.

"They don't give me some unfair advantage do they?" asked Niamh as they made their way through Hyde Park.

Professor Snape was taking her to St. Mungo's-St. Swithin's. He'd explained that he wanted her to see an old acquaintance of his for a health exam. He was concerned about the injuries she'd sustained over the years. Niamh agreed, so long as he did not leave her. The professor was amenable; he'd had no intention of leaving her side. This acquaintance owed him a favour or three. Snape had saved his life more than once.

"Not in the slightest. As I said, they have merely brought out where you would be had you been educated. Your talents; your abilities – they are all yours. Nothing to do with me. You will find, as a magical being, that you no doubt some rather interesting abilities that will show themselves throughout the course of your Wizarding education. Some should have already. Has anything…_unusual _ever happened around you? Especially in moments of tiredness or anger or upset?"

"No – it wouldn't be allowed…"

_"Allowed?"_

"Things used to happen all the time when I was younger. But they used to come after me all the time so I had to make it stop…it was the Devil's Work they said."

The conversation came to an abrupt end. They had arrived at the _ 's-St Swithin's Clinic & Spa for Magical and Non-Magical Maladies_. It was in a rather grand Regency-period building. If Muggles looked at it they saw a brick wall. Professor Snape looked around. When he was satisfied they would not be seen, he and Niamh went into the building.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Dr. Armando Fawcett was a Slytherin who'd attended Hogwarts at the same time as Professor Snape. He'd managed to get on the bad side of a Death Eater through no fault of his own and Snape had prevented him from being yet another casualty of the Dark Lord's just before the height of the last war. The good doctor was a useful acquaintance to have and was happy to help. He'd also been called in by the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall to assist with this most delicate of matters and was being assisted by Madam Pomfrey, who had Apparated down from her holiday at the family home for this unofficial afternoon appointment. Armando Fawcett was always someone they could rely on and he'd proven himself over the years many times over.

The appointment was proving to be much less traumatic that Niamh had expected. All the doctor did was wave his wand around and mutter strange words and phrases. Still, she was awfully glad that Professor Snape was there with her, holding her hand. She was shaking so bad from nerves she'd almost come off the table once. Madame Promfrey was taking notes at the Headmaster's request. There would be no record of this visit or the young girl herself on file at St. Mungo's-St. Swithin's.

The healing of Niamh's most recent horrific wounds, the ones which would not heal properly, was a simple and easy affair. The doctor had even managed to sort out some of the worst of the old scarring. Yet he was not able to get rid of all of it. This was quite worrisome. He decided to do the internal scans next and left the spiritual scans for last. When there was a problem such as the one he was faced with there was undoubtedly a problem that was spiritual in essence.

Dr. Fawcett was unusual. He was one of less than a handful of specialists in the Wizarding world who understood that every physical ailment had a spiritual component which also required healing. Professor Snape was another. Other than that, the only other specialists were on the Continent, mainly in Transylvania. That was the problem with Muggle and standard Wizarding medicine. The body was healed, but its spirit was not. The doctor did not want to think about what this girl had been through to have the wounds and scars she did.

There was much scarring internally and the doctor was appalled at how much scarring there was in the young lady's private area. Most of it was curable.

_'Merlin's Beard – she is lucky to be alive…'_ he thought to himself. _'Whoever she has been with, they should not be allowed to walk the face of the earth…'_

Again he was very worried that not all of her injuries were being healed as they should have been.

Last were the spiritual scans of her human energy field, or Aura as Muggles commonly referred to it. Everyone in the room could see it. There were huge gaping holes and parts of it were blackened. Even her Primary and Secondary Chakras had significant damage; they were virtually devoid of their usual vibrant colours and quite faded. The young lady was hanging by a thread in every sense.

But something still was not right.

Dr. Fawcett did his final test and there were loud gasps in the room.

_"What? What is it? What's wrong with me?"_ asked Niamh who was obviously frightened especially because she had no real understanding of what was going on.

"Niamh," said Professor Snape gently as he leaned in so that she could see him properly. "Has anything else been going on besides the physical abuse? Besides the…_other things_…you have been forced to do?"

Niamh nodded her head _'yes'_.

_"Merlin's Beard…"_ mumbled Madam Promfrey.

She'd never seen anything like it in all her years as a Mediwitch and that was saying something. Even her formidable expertise did not extend itself to such matters.

"The Church Officials come…and make me go to the Brotherhouse…" said Niamh. "And…they do things to me…"

All in the room went as white as the most pristinely cleaned of the priest's sheets. As pale as Professor Snape already was that was no small thing.

Professor Snape found his voice yet again for a difficult question.

"What is that they have done? Have you ever heard anything that might help us to help you?"

"I think they try to do something to my magic…"

_"Oh my Goddess…"_ said Madam Pomfrey as she dropped her Mediwitch Diary and put her hands over her mouth.

Dr. Fawcett had revealed her magical core in the seat of her soul. It most certainly was damaged, although not extensively. Only someone with highly advanced skills in the Dark Arts could have managed such a thing. And such a person seemed to be an official in the Roman Catholic Church?! This did not make any sense…though when it came to the Roman Church nothing would surprise any of them.

"Someone comes – but I don't think he is with the Church," said Niamh. "Not officially…and its only been in the last few months. Not very long…"

"Do you know who this someone is?" asked Dr. Fawcett quietly.

"No – they always blind me so I can't see. He has a strange voice though…I can't explain it."

"She can't go back to them Severus. There is just no way that we can turn her over to these people," said Madame Pomfrey.

"I agree. But at the moment the Ministry of Magic are in control. It seems quite obvious that they do not realise what is going on here. We have to discuss this with the Headmaster, though I would have no hesitation in acting were it up to me," said Professor Snape.

This was a threat to the whole of Wizarding kind all over the world. Still they were encouraged, whoever it was had not succeeded.

"Can you do anything for her Armando?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"Not entirely – but I know someone who can…"

"Who?"

_"Me,"_ answered Professor Snape as he stood up and took out his wand.

Niamh remained quiet. Of all the people there she allowed herself to trust the professor.

"This will not hurt, Niamh. I promise you that," he said in a whisper that only she could hear.

Professor Snape was an expert at healing through the Dark Arts. He'd learned it first hand from the Darkest of the Dark of all Dark Creatures in Transylvania, though no one was aware of all of the finer details; not even the Headmaster who tended know a lot more than people gave him credit for. So complicated was what he had to do and so obscure was the language that there was no doubting that the good doctor and the Mediwitch could not follow it.

It took Professor Snape less than five minutes to work on Niamh's magical core using his wand and also his hands once he'd cleaned them. Another 10 and she should be fully healed.

"Severus, we will have to explain how she was healed to the Headmaster…" said Madam Pomfrey.

"He knows what he needs to know; do not worry about the finer details. Simply note that once again the Dark Arts has saved a life…and perhaps the Wizarding world itself. I make it my business to not explain the process, only the end result."

"Thank Goddess for that…what we must concern ourselves with is who is doing this and what their purpose is…" said Armando. "It certainly is not for anything that is good…"

"Agreed – they most certainly have a shock in store if Niamh returns to Ireland and they discover her magical core has been fully restored along with her health. The fact that they have managed to tampered with it means they need to be stopped at all costs. They and whoever is working with them. The Vatican must surely be aware if it – at least one or two officials…unless they have some rogue elements that are working for or against the Church in secret," said Professor Snape.

"Against the Church? How is that possible?" asked Madam Pomfrey incredulously.

"Think about it for a moment Poppy. The beliefs the Church perpetuates amongst their faithful contradict each other and are outright lies even though they know about the truths of their world and the Wizarding world and what magic can do. They were the ones who caused the split between our worlds. What if someone wants to rectify that and seeks complete power for themselves and dominion over all things; including the Wizarding world itself? It most certainly would be a New World Order and would bring the Church and other Muggle religious entities to their knees. Make no mistake; I know that it is _not likely_ to be so simple…nothing this dangerous ever is."

_"But why her, Severus? And why do whatever it was that was being attempted?"_

"I agree with the Headmaster: I think the answers to that are locked up inside the secret archives of the Vatican and the sealed records office at the Ministry," he answered. "But I also think it's to do with Niamh herself. There is something about her which brought her into their line of sight. This something no doubt had to do with her mother as well. This something is likely to be at the heart of their tampering with her magical core."

"It stands to reason," said Dr. Fawcett. "Nothing would surprise me with the Ministry. They always have rogue elements they ignore until it's too late. Then we have to clean up their mess…"

"Say no more, Armando," said Poppy. "I remember that Gobshawk affair a few years ago. Unfathomable and inexcusable how they bungled that one!"

Dr. Fawcett did another scan of Niamh's magical core. The girl remained quiet, not totally comprehending all that was going on around her.

"Severus…have a look at this…"

Professor Snape looked and could not hide his surprise. It was true that the cores of all witches and wizards were unique unto them – but Niamh's – it was very different even now that it had been fully restored.

"Do you think that is because of what they have done?" asked Armando.

"I am not certain. My instincts tell me _'no'_…but I intend to find out."

Niamh's magical core was certainly different. Very different for someone who was supposedly an ordinary witch. But ordinary she wasn't; not with a core like this. All species had magical cores with properties that were basic to the species itself. Neither humans nor other known magical creatures had a core quite like this. Clearly both the Vatican and the Ministry of Magic knew much more than they were letting on. Professor McGonagall was right; neither could be trusted to reveal the truth.

Professor Snape had been quite correct.

The answers were indeed locked up inside Niamh herself.

There was much more at stake than met the eye.

============================================

Sources:

*Mabillard, Amanda. "An Analysis of Shakespeare's Sonnet 18". Shakespeare Online. 2000.

www . shakespeare-online . com (06/09/04).

(with slight adjustments from the author of Haunted)


	3. Father Figure

**Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.**

**Summary: A mysterious young girl a must navigate a formidable tightrope between her precarious existence in a Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the Wizarding world of Harry Potter. **_**This is an intense story with occasional violence from the start. AU. The First of a planned Trilogy. Snape/OFC Lupin/OFC**_

_**Author's Notes: **_

_**This Alternate Universe HP story was inspired by real-life story of The Magdalene Sisters, their laundries and asylums of Ireland and the more than 30,000 women who were incarcerated and victimized in them in the 20th century alone. Factual details are behind the details of this fanon character. If any aspect of the subjects covered are offensive to your sensibilities, then this is not the story for you.**_

_**This is an intense story and rated R.**_

**Haunted by NativeMoon**

**Chapter 03: Father Figure**

**The Summer Before Year One:**

_**After the visit to the clinic:**_

"If you are not too tired we can go shopping," suggested Professor Snape. "Would you like that?"

He and Niamh still had quite a bit of time left in their day once they were done with their visit to the clinic. There were many people out and about and they were being jostled as they made their way towards Oxford Street. Unconsciously, Niamh slipped a small hand in one of his and allowed him to guide her much to the Potions Masters surprise.

"Really? You were serious about buying me clothes?"

"Of course I was. You forget that what little you had was left behind."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"Because I like being nice to you," came his honest answer without hesitation. "And because I have never known anyone who deserves it, let alone one who deserves it as much as or more than you, Niamh."

Niamh was quite surprised at this; despite his manner towards her so far, the professor did not strike her as a man who always found it easy to be kind and giving of himself. She did not know how she knew, but she just knew. The young girl had no doubt that she would find out more in time. The thought of it was quite agreeable to her.

They were now on a long street that was filled with people. Niamh had never seen sights quite like this in her life. It was very intimidating; the hustle and bustle of people of all ages and backgrounds as they made their way from shop-to-shop. There was an over-abundance of young people her age, many of whom were loud and obnoxious. Others looked and acted anything but their age. Once again Niamh was being stared at whispered about. Some were not even polite. There were blatant comments, some from adults who should have known better.

It took all of Professor Snape's restraint to not whip out his wand and destroy the lot of them. He hated the Capital with its heaving masses of humanity. The less time he had to spend here the better. But this was not about him.

"How about this one first?" he asked as they paused outside of one of London's most famous department stores.

Niamh shrugged. What did she know about such things?

"I leave it up to you…"

"You are allowed to have an opinion Niamh! This is not Ireland and I am _not_ one of _those people_…"

The young girl failed to hide her incredulity at being treated like a human being. Or rather, being treated like what she thought human beings were supposed to be treated like.

This was not lost on Professor Snape.

"I mean it Niamh. What you think and what you want is very important to me," he said gently.

"Why? I'm nothing. I'm nobody. Sister says I am a black stain on the soul of humanity. She says nothing good comes from me."

"She is wrong Niamh! She is wrong and what she has done to you and said to you is evil! She is a hypocrite and a liar! Do not use her as the yardstick by which you measure everyone else. Judge people on their own merits. There is nothing wrong with you! She and her church and their beliefs are the problem, not you!"

"_No one ever does anything unless they want something…"_

"No one that you are used to. I will not deny that the world is filled with people who use other people. People who are not trustworthy and who are dishonourable. I can't make you trust me. Trust takes time. But I want nothing from you Niamh – _and not like that_. I am a lot of things, many of them perhaps not very nice (according to Hogwarts students past and present) – but I am certainly _**not**_what you are used to…"

Niamh could sense that the professor's feelings were hurt. She felt bad, but she had been down this road before. A priest tells you how wonderful he is and all the while he wants something and is setting a trap. Still, she could not help but to place a certain amount of faith and trust in this dark stranger. He was telling the truth about himself for better and worse.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I don't mean anything against you. And I am not saying that just because I want you to spend money on me…"

There was a gentle sigh.

"_Oh Niamh, what I am to do to prove myself to you?"_ Professor Snape mused in frustration out loud.

Niamh stared at him with a slightly open mouth. Him – _prove himself to her_?

The professor realised to his horror that he'd actually spoken those words.

He looked down at the young girl.

"Well that is a first. You are very special indeed Miss Caeoimhin."

"So it seems. I don't understand it!"

"One day you will…"

**XxxOOOxxX**

They were in the right department, but Niamh did not know what to make of it all having never been in this position before. She was still being stared at and talked about a bit here and there, but tuned it out. The shock of new clothes, and such nice ones, overrode any other concerns.

So many pretty things. The young girl was just lost and overwhelmed.

'This just isn't right,' she thought to herself.

"Which one do you like, Niamh?" asked Professor Snape as they stood in front a rack of dresses. "Whatever you like; it's up to you."

Niamh shook her head _'no'_.

"These are too nice for somebody like me…" she said in a quiet whisper as her eyes started to well up with tears. "The Sisters and Brothers say I don't deserve anything for being so wicked and filled with sin."

The professor could not believe his ears. Any other girl would be falling all over themselves to have the latest fashions. But Niamh was not like any other girl. Even in Magdalene she was unique; she was born into that grim cloistered life without any real understanding of the normality that most of the other girls and women might have taken for granted prior to their incarceration. Even though there had been plenty who'd come to Magdalene and ended up spending the rest of their lives there, they still at least had experienced the world outside. Perhaps that was what drove so many insane: being all too aware of the precious freedoms and trappings of life beyond the prison of the Asylum and Laundry walls that they were forced to leave behind.

"You are not wicked and you most certainly are _not_ filled with sin! Sin is a religious concept meant to enslave you! You deserve good things, Niamh, and you are no less worthy of these things than anyone else in this shop! The servants of the Roman Church deliberately deny themselves. They chose the repressed path that they find themselves on. It is their personal choice and their religion demands it. Such a life does not have to be yours. If you deny yourself your wishes and dreams then they win! Their hang-ups and despicable judgments about you and the situation that they have brought to bear should not be yours!"

The young girl sniffed.

"I know it's hard for you, but try to not waste any more tears on those wretched people or anyone else like them," Professor Snape said firmly.

Niamh nodded slightly, her eyes fixed on the purple dress in front of her. It was her favourite of all the ones on the rack. But it was one that would show off her arms and legs. It was pretty, but she was not and she said so. Such a pretty thing was not for someone who looked like her. She was brainwashed and beaten down; she had been taught that she was less than nothing and that no one would ever see her as anything other than that. And to a degree it was true; the world was not a kind place to someone who looked like her and had her background.

But the Potions Master understood. He understood _that _even if he did not understand anything else about her life.

He reached up and took the dress.

"It does not hurt to try it on. You may feel differently once you are wearing it. We can look for a long wrap or a cardigan for your arms. How about that?"

Niamh nodded 'yes' and gave his hand a squeeze.

Professor Snape gave her a smile and a gentle squeeze back.

They walked around the department with several pairs of eyes following their every move. They found a nice jacket to go with her dress. Niamh also picked out jeans, jumpers, cardigans and big men's styled shirts; clothes that would hide her scars rather than draw attention to them.

The professor wisely decided not to push her any further than she was willing to go at the moment.

'She cannot hide herself forever. But this will take time,' he thought to himself.

There was no way he would ever give up on her. He cared about her too much to give up on her the way people had given up on him.

They made their way over to the changing room and he took a seat in the waiting area.

"Let me see what they look like on you…"

But before Niamh could go in she was stopped by a senior sales assistant.

"You can't go in there," came a sharp voice near them.

Much to his surprise, before Professor Snape could speak Niamh spoke up for herself.

"Why? It's the fitting room isn't it? I need to try these on to make sure they fit," she said eyeballing the haughty sales associate.

The professor stood up in the intimidating fullness of his height, but kept his own counsel. Niamh was taking the first steps towards being a strong young woman and he was going to let her handle it as she saw fit.

"We won't be able to sell those if they don't fit and you don't buy them! Can you even afford all this?!" the woman hissed as she glared at the young girl who did not look as if she had four pence to her name let along the estimated seven hundred pounds worth of garments in her scarred arms.

The sales staff were clearly horrified at the thought of her trying on their expensive clothes. As far as they were concerned, she was no better than a leper. This wretched thing in her blood-stained raggedy dress.

Niamh looked like she'd been slapped by Theresa Clohessy.

She threw the clothes down.

"Feck it. I don't need the goddamned clothes!"

She walked away fast with Professor Snape in pursuit. Suddenly she stopped, turned around and walked back to them.

"There is nothing wrong with me! I can't hurt your precious clothes! You can take them and stick them where the sun doesn't shine, you feckin' bitches!"

The Potions Master was stunned. There were no tears, just anger. And hurt too, that was certain. But he was proud of Niamh; very proud. Her language be damned. She had just taken a very important step and he was not about to chastise her. She did what she had to do for herself even with him there to protect her.

They quickly took their leave of the store. Oxford and Regent Streets were long shopping streets and they were going to find proper shops with sales people who appeciated their customers – all of their customers regardless of the face they presented to the world.

"They will find that they don't have jobs when their sales quotas start to fall," said Professor Snape matter-of-factly.

Niamh couldn't help herself.

She smiled at her Guardian Angel; a big dimpled smile that lit up her scarred face. The first real smile she'd ever cracked in her life.

'_What a beautiful smile she has,'_ he thought to himself.

"We will try as many shops as we need to until we find the right ones," he said out loud. "That establishment failed to live up to its esteemed reputation. You can certainly do better than that."

Niamh gave him another smile and nodded.

"I'm proud of you Niamh. Very proud of you for standing up for yourself."

Niamh went beet red.

"I wouldn't have if it wasn't for you…" she said. "I'm sorry about my language. I know you don't like it. I forgot just then. It won't happen again, I promise."

"What language would that be?" asked Professor Snape with a big grin. "I don't know what you are talking about, Miss Caeoimhin."

**XxxOOOxxX**

They went to smaller shops and found salespeople that were much more accommodating. In one they were served by an attractive woman with a big strawberry birthmark that covered a good part of one side of her face; the cheerful, very stylish and decidedly nice assistant manageress of the shop. To Niamh's delight this little shop had things that were much nicer and more unique than the larger department store. And no one minded that she tried them on. The staff here seemed to go out of their way to help her pick clothes and accessories that were right for her and gave a more than acceptable level of customer service. They were very happy to have her patronage.

However, Professor Snape did have his limits of tolerance when it came to shopping for a young woman. They went to a specialist shop for undergarments and bed wear. He made it quite clear what was not acceptable after he caught Niamh eyeballing some rather sexy lingerie. There was no room for discussion despite her pouts and sulks. He could see she was going to be quite a feminine woman when she grew up, but no way was that appropriate at her age. He barked his orders to the manageress as he handed her things which he found acceptable. He then hid himself near some silk bathrobes until the items were ready to be paid for along with the other things Niamh decided she wanted.

Niamh tried to slip a couple of rather risqué items past him in one of her new bathrobes as a wind-up, but she was no match for the Potions Master. He went straight for the pretty, but highly inappropriate items and held them up with a smirk. He was rewarded with a big grin for his savvy at sussing her out. The professor couldn't help himself and grinned back. Truth be told, Niamh already had him wrapped around her finger to a degree – but she knew enough not to push her luck. At least she knew he appreciated a good laugh as much as anyone else. She did not know how she knew – she just did.

Loaded down with shopping bags of clothes, shoes and accessories they took a Black Cab back to the Muggle street where the Leaky Cauldron was located. Niamh couldn't wait to have a proper shower and shampoo so that she felt right putting on a new outfit for dinner.

She emerged shyly from her bedroom. It was strange having such new and pretty clothes on in her favourite colour of purple with accents of cobalt blue, silvery gray, olive green and cranberry. Professor Snape had spotted the ankle-length dress and immediately was reminded of her eyes. Niamh had to admit it; it was a gorgeous scooped-neck dress with its batik print and elbow-length slightly puffed sleeves. She had a silver and amethyst necklace and silver serpent wrist cuff to match. Her long hair had never been so clean and she did not have to hide it in a tight pinned-up braid as she'd been required to at Magdalene. She wore it loose and had put one of her new jewelled combs in it. A silver butterfly.

She was like a newly metamorphed butterfly emerging from its chrysalis to Professor Snape.

"You look lovely, Niamh. That really does suit you," he said quietly.

To him she really was lovely. She knew it was not a wind-up nor was he saying it just to be polite. She gave him a shy smile and blushed in spite of herself.

The professor gave her a gentle smile back. He had been determined to not overdo it and spoil her. But the moment she even so much as looked at something he snatched it up. It had been that way with the jewelled combs and other hair ornaments he'd purchased for her without her realising.

Several times Niamh had to persuade him that she really did not like some things, however. Professor Snape would follow her gaze, take up the item and she would take it from him and put it back. He would take it again and again she would put it back. She even had to convince him that she genuinely wasn't interested in going into certain shops to have a look, although they seemed very nice. She had acquired more in one day than she could ever dream of or hope for. The good professor seemed to want to make up for lost time but even she had her limits in this strange new world.

Still, Niamh was very surprised to find that she had a lot more than she remembered taking up to the registers herself, including the pale violet lace shawl that was around her shoulders. She did not expect him to spend all of his money on her. He would rather spend it on her, he'd said, then to let it gather dust sitting in Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank, as it collected interest. He had more than enough money saved and would see to it that she was always provided for. He had no family of his own and no prospects of ever having one.

Niamh decided to not press the issue. It struck her as very strange that someone as nice and lovely as him had no one to care for him, no family or children of his own. _'No prospects' _he'd said. She could only think the women who knew him must be as thick as Sister Angelica's paddle to pass him over. They certainly got on well enough, more than either had a right to expect. It was still a surprise to Niamh, how he was with her.

The professor always seemed to be hurt inside when she resisted his efforts to be nice to her or to help her.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**Their first night in London**_

West London was as exciting at night as it was during the day. Rather than eat at the Leakey Cauldron or some other establishment in Diagon Alley, Professor Snape took Niamh to a Chinese restaurant. They would have more than enough of the usual British Muggle and Wizarding fare at Hogwarts and he always liked to do something different when he was away from the confines of the school. Anything for Niamh was a new experience so she left it up to him.

They enjoyed their meal and then Niamh was shown around a good bit of the West End. Her senses were on overload as they walked by a large megastore specialising in Muggle music and electronics near Piccadilly Circus with its bright lights and giant neon billboards. Niamh visibly perked up and Professor Snape took her inside. She knew better than to protest. It had been a few hours since she'd last hurt his feelings. They were having a nice time out and she did not want to ruin it.

"I don't suppose you've ever really listened to music; anything other than religious music?" he asked.

"No – it's forbidden."

There was a DJ in the store spinning some of what apparently were popular songs at the moment mixed in with older and more varied selections and Niamh bopped along in spite of herself. The professor got the playlist and a clerk and then made his way through the racks picking up each CD, some other things Niamh didn't have any clue about and a personal stereo system in purple and silver.

The clerk was having a field day with the man in black who took all of his recommendations. At the rate they were going the young man would be employee of the year let alone the month. The Manager was eyeballing them behind the counter almost shivering in anticipation of a big sale. It definitely made him look good.

Niamh tugged on Snape's black Matrix-like duster coat.

"Are you really getting all that?" she whispered once he leaned down.

"Of course…don't you want it?" he asked with a frown that deepened the vertical line between his brows.

He actually sounded hurt this time.

"_Who…me?!"_

"Yes, _you_…I wasn't dancing to it."

"_Oh Jaysis…"_

Niamh did not know what to say so she just nodded. She would just stay quiet and let the professor do what he wanted. It seemed to make him happy and she doubted that there was much in his life that had ever made him feel good. Still, it surprised her that she seemed to have brought some much-needed joy into his lonely life. Without him telling her, she seemed to be coming to an understanding about him, though there was still much to learn about her Guardian Angel.

The clerk even let them preview a few CDs. The professor would ask her about this or that and she would indicate '_yes'_ or_ 'no'_. She didn't have a clue what she was agreeing to, but she would find out soon enough. Professor Snape did not bat an eyelash when everything was wrung up. The store had never had a sale that big. He gave Niamh two large shopping bags of CDs and sheet music to carry and he took the rest including the stereo.

The manager of the store had the clerk secure a Black Cab for them and they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron once again.

It had been a long and incredibly unbelievable day. She could not have ever imagined this for herself: waking up to the usual pain and dreariness of Magdalene only to be rescued by a Guardian Angel. It was the stuff dreams were made of, but never hers. Until now.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_"NOOOOOO! PLEASE! NOOOOOOOO! STOOOOOOPPPPP!"_

Niamh was screaming tearfully in her sleep.

_"NOOOOOO! PLEASE! NOOOOOOOO! DON'T HURT ME PLEASE!"_

Professor Snape burst through her now unlocked door in his old grey tattered nightshirt, wand-in-hand ready to do battle. It had sounded like nothing short of murder was taking place. There were no intruders, thank Goddess for that. On the one hand he was relieved to see that it was only a nightmare. On the other, he cared about Niamh too much to not be upset at her considerable distress.

He placed his wand on her night table and pulled her into his arms. She struggled against him – she struggled against whomever it was in her dream.

"Niamh it's alright. I'm here..." he said as he shook her gently.

Still she struggled as she tried to wake up.

"Niamh…it's..._Severus_…wake up…"

"Hmmmmppphhhhhh…huh?"

Niamh's eyes opened. She still had tears streaming down her face and burst into a full-blown crying jag as she clung to the professor.

The Potions Master was in no way accustomed to being a comfort to anyone. Not even to himself. But somehow, with her, some hidden instincts came to the surface. He held her and tried to reassure her so that she would fall back asleep. It took some time, but eventually she calmed down once he convinced her he would not let anything happen to her. She fell into a deep dreamless sleep in his arms.

He would try to get up and she would not let go, even in her sleep. Professor Snape sighed as he adjusted the pillows and blankets as much as he could do with her hanging on to him. He managed to shift Niamh so that there was enough room for the two of them.

He fell asleep half-sitting up on the covers with one leg dangling over the side of the bed. Niamh was still clinging to him for safety as she slept wrapped tightly in her sheets and blanket.

She would not let go.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**One Day Before Year One Begins – Diagon Alley**__:_

Severus could not get Niamh to open up about her dreams. She just would not talk about them. Crying. That's all she could do when he gently tried to ask yet again during breakfast in the little dining area off of their sitting room.

He decided to leave it for the moment.

Whatever the subject, the dreams must have been truly terrifying and horrific for her to allow him to soothe her and fall asleep with him reading to her every night. The sound of his mellifluous silky baritone eased her into calmness so that she could sleep. There was still a fine line with her, one he must be very careful with, he thought. He did not want her to think he was something he was not or that there was something sinister behind his intentions.

The Potions Master needn't have worried. Such thoughts never crossed her mind. If they had she would not have let him near her. He was the first and only comfort she had ever had in her life. And somehow she knew that once they departed for the school things would be different. She had to make the most of this while she had it. She could not tell him this. Somehow it struck her as inappropriate.

He was astute enough to realise this on his own. It was yet another unspoken understanding that they had between them.

Still, it was strange to Severus. As long as he was present there were no nightmares. The one time he'd managed to free himself from Niamh's vise-like grip and gone to his room he was awoken again by the gut-wrenching, heart-breaking sounds of her night terrors. He'd had no choice but to go back to her, again sleeping half-sitting up while she clung to him for dear life in his arms, her head resting on his chest. One way or another he would get to the bottom of this. It had not yet occurred to him how, but he was determined to sort this out. It was another piece in the mysterious puzzle that was Niamh Caeoimhin.

It would not be easy though. There was the harsh reality that once they were at Hogwarts things would undoubtedly be different. He would not be able to be there for her as he was now. If she were sorted into Slytherin, perhaps it would be different. But she was no more a Slytherin as such than he was a Hufflepuff. The qualities that stood out in her were more likely to see her in Ravenclaw or even Gryffindor, heaven's forbid.

There was nothing he could do for her in this regard if she were sorted into any house but his own. As much as he wanted her to be in Slytherin with him, the reality was that she most likely would not. Niamh had been very upset when he'd finally explained the history of Hogwarts and its House system. The professor kept her nightmares away and she wanted to be with him. She just wanted to be with him anyway. She liked him a lot and was used to his peculiar ways. The few days she'd had with him were the best she'd eve had in her whole life.

"_I don't like it! Why can't I be with you? I don't want to be in another House!"_

She was clearly distraught at the idea of being separated from him. Somehow the events of the past few days together had forged a very strong bond between them.

"I'm sorry Niamh. I really am. It's down to the Sorting. It is a tradition that is thousands of years old, older than the Roman Church itself. It's not something I have any control over. I only wish I did."

She knew he was very sorry indeed. Somehow she understood that being separated from her would not be easy for him. The professor was going to miss her companionship and taking care of her. He was not used to being attached to anyone or having anyone be attached to him. Separation anxiety had never been a part of his life, not even as a child.

Deep down he was very upset.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Today was just for Diagon Alley. It was as eventful as the previous few days of shopping and taking in the sights of Muggle London, but even more so. This was the Wizarding world after all. This was what it was all about, what they were here for in the first place.

Niamh was gobsmacked by the sights and sounds of the Wizarding equivalent of a Muggle mall. They bought everything on her list along with a state-of-the-art telescope and a beautiful male extremely rare Black Owl with big brown eyes the colour of brandy that Niamh christened Oisin.

She was very fascinated with her wand. It was made of Ebony, Ivory and Unicorn horn with engraved Celtic ornamental design and contained several Thestral tail hairs. It was everything she could do to resist waving it about. She understood it was not a play thing. But it was just beginning to sink in that she was a magical being.

"If you like, I can teach you some things once we are home…" said Professor Snape without thinking.

_Home._

What an odd thing to say.

_Odd_, but it felt right.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Professor McGonagall sat with Professor Snape over a pot of tea and scones in the Floo cafe across from Flourish and Blott's. Severus had given Niamh money to buy whatever extra books she wanted after introducing her to the Deputy Headmistress. He needed to have a word with Professor McGonagall privately. Luckily there was a fireplace and it was easy to summon her from Hogwarts.

"I don't know quite where to start…" he said with a frown as he tuned out the Muggle Jazz music playing through the sound system. Nina Simone was one of his favourites. But this was no time to indulge his passion for America's original art form.

"The beginning usually suffices for me, Severus…"

There was a deep frustrated sigh from the Potions Master.

"I will get straight to the point. The past few days…the past few days have been unlike anything I had imaged. It has been the same way for Niamh as well undoubtedly."

"That would not surprise me, to be honest. It is a highly unusual situation. I must say the two of you seem to get on rather well. Much better than I could have hoped for considering the circumstances."

There was another sigh. The Potions Master was not one for opening up let alone bearing his soul. But that is exactly what he was doing in his own controlled way.

"Somehow in the last few days Niamh and I have established a..._home_...with each other here. She has very real problems that it seems only I can help her with. We both know that it is not likely she will be sorted into Slytherin. If she were I might be able to give her what she needs. But in another House I cannot help her the way she has come to expect me to. She needs me and I need to be there for her."

Severus went on to explain the situation with Niamh's night terrors and her reaction to the likelihood of being apart from him once they arrived at Hogwarts. He could not abandon her having come so far with her already.

Professor McGonagall was more than shocked. It was surprising enough that Professor Snape had volunteered to tutor the poor unfortunate girl. And even more astonishing when he'd insisted on fetching her himself from Magdalene and several days early. But he was also the one who insisted on her medical treatment as well as seeing to her every need. None of their other colleagues had cared to in their sympathy from a distance.

She had to respect that fact that it was not easy for a man like Severus Snape to open up or to care about anyone in this way. She suspected that there was a bit more to this for him for reasons of his own.

"I agree. I've read your report. Niamh has very real needs that would not be resolved during the course of the usual arrangements at Hogwarts. I don't care what Xiomara thinks, the Psychiatric Ward at St. Mungo's is not the way forward!"

Severus was surprised that she agreed so readily, but his face was its usual dour mask. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement.

"I respect the legalities of you taking control of her Guardianship now, Minerva, and I thank you for indulging me thus far. What am proposing is that I work with you and continue to be available to help Niamh, outside of the boundaries of the curriculum – and that includes any problems, whatever they may be, with the other professors."

"Well; I don't see why it should be a problem Severus. She has come very far in such a short time it would be a shame to throw all of that progress away. Consider it done."

Professor McGonagall glanced out the window. There was Niamh making her way across the road looking very cheerful and pleased with her purchases.

"Well, it looks like we finished just in time," said the Deputy Headmistress.

Niamh came in and walked back to the two professors. She held out three large bags for Professor Snape to inspect.

"You have not tried to sneak anything past me again?" he asked with a smirk.

"Who? _Me?_ Never!" said Niamh with a grin as she sat next to him.

"It sounds like you were up to something, my dear…" said Professor McGonagall trying not to smile.

"Errr, not exactly ma'am," said Niamh as she blushed.

Severus explained about Niamh's flirtation with some very adult undergarments.

The young girl tried to look like it had nothing to do with her.

"It was an accident…" she said trying to keep a straight face.

"Your dimples are showing. This indicates to me that in fact it was anything but," said Professor Snape with a smirk.

'_Oh my! They are so very good together. What he has done with her is nothing short of a miracle,_' thought Minerva. _"And what she is bringing out of him…no one would ever believe it."_

After all, who was in a better position than her to realise this given all that she herself had witnessed during her time in Ireland and what she and others had to put up with from the Potions Master?

"I have some good news for you, Niamh," she said. "Though I am now your official Guardian, Professor Snape will continue to be available to help you. I think it's best to address matters as they arise, but for now you can be assured that he will remain an active part of your life beyond the initial agreement to be your Tutor. Do not worry about the Headmaster or Ministry; there is no need to make mention of this to either of them. The only requirement is that as far as the rest of our world is concerned it is myself and my clan...my family...who have assumed the responsibility for looking after you. So in making friends, that is the story we must stick to, alright?"

"_Really?!"_ exclaimed Niamh who was clearly relived and very happy. "Oh thank you! Thank you so much Professor McGonagall!"

"Yes, really!" replied Professor McGonagall with a gentle smile.

There was no doubting that Professor Snape had been very accurate in his assessment of the situation. Niamh's reaction was confirmation of that.

"Severus, I will add an additional room to your office. You will require a bit more space now than you have had on your own."

"That would be acceptable."

"_You are most welcome, Severus," _said Professor McGonagall trying not to smirk. "I often spend weekends and holidays at my home near Strathpeffe. It's in the Scottish Highlands as well. You will have your own bedroom there but we can sort out the décor when the time comes. And Professor Snape is welcome to visit you there when his schedule permits."

"Wow!" Niamh exclaimed as she looked through the small book of wizarding photos that Professor McGonagall had pushed across the table. "My own bedroom...in a fancy place like that…_Oh Jaysis! Thank you ma'am_," said Niamh as she stood up and threw her arms around Professor McGonagall.

Minerva was in shock. Being hugged in appreciation was not exactly something she was used to. Not in public anyway.

"It's alright dear. You have a home with the Clan MacKenzie at Castle Leod outside of Hogwarts and we want you to be comfortable," she said giving Niamh a gentle pat on the back. "Heavens knows why Dougal still refers to it as a castle... it's just a large house, really. Certainly nothing compared to Hogwarts but don't tell him I said that!"

The expression on Niamh's face changed. She went from elation to despair in the space of a few seconds.

"As long as I have to go back to Magdalene it will never be my home…"

"Well since you mention it Niamh we might as well have a chat about that," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't believe in keeping you in the dark about what concerns you."

"Oh?" asked Severus before Niamh could reply. "Had there been a new development?"

"The Headmaster was most disturbed by the reports from yourself and Poppy, Severus. There is definitely something going on, but _**other matters **_unfortunately have to take precedence at the moment…" she said giving him a knowing look.

Severus' face looked as if he'd swallowed sour milk. Professor McGonagall could only be talking about one thing: _**Harry Potter**_. "The Boy Who Lived" had not yet even set foot in Hogwarts and already he was a distraction from matters of importance. He'd done nothing to deserve the commotion being made over him. With all of the goings-on with Niamh, the Potions Master had completely forgotten about their new celebrity. Not to mention the Philosopher's Stone.

He did not care what the Headmaster thought; Niamh was the most important thing to him. He would look after her especially because no one else would. Potter had more than enough people making a fuss about him. The Potions Master would never be one of them.

"I see. Well, then I will have to look into these matters myself, as I had intended to," he said in clipped tones. "This cannot wait Minerva. It may not be a priority for anyone else, but it is a priority for me."

"Give it some time, Severus. The school year is just beginning. We **will** sort this out before next summer, Albus just has to attend to other matters first…"

"Fine, but I still intend to sort this out. Niamh cannot go back to that place! She cannot go back to those despicable people!" he said heatedly. "We cannot leave this for too long!"

"I agree, Severus! I don't want to her back there any more than you do. But my hands are tied at the moment. I will have a word with Albus and we will have to trust his handling of the Ministry; no doubt it will take some time to get through such delicate negotiations."

Severus nodded. But he swore to himself that if the Headmaster took too long he would take matters into his own hands.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_**The Night Before Year One Begins**_:

Severus sent everything they had purchased but Niamh's school things and her new trunk to Hogwarts via the Floo Express Delivery Service. He noticed her hands trembling slightly as they packed. But chose not to say anything then.

"What's wrong Niamh? Besides being nervous about tomorrow…?" he asked gently once she crawled in bed taking her now customary place so that he could read to her.

He could see the worriment in her eyes. She had been very quiet since they said their goodbyes to Professor McGonagall. Even at dinner she had hardly said a word and barely touched her food.

She didn't answer as she placed her head on his chest, wrapped an arm around him and closed her eyes.

There was a moment's silence.

"Please don't make me go back there…" came her quiet tearful whisper.

"Professor McGonagall and I don't want you to go back to them any more than you want to go, Niamh. We will do what we can…but this is bigger than either of us. The Vatican and our Ministry of Magic have been in conflict for centuries. I don't understand what you are to the Holy See; but they seem determined to try and hang onto you somehow for reasons still unknown to us," Severus replied gently.

The Potions Master was afraid to make promises that he may very well not be able to keep. Especially with that imbecile Fudge as Minister of Magic. Fudge only worried about making himself look good and keeping down anything or anyone that threatened him.

"I'm sorry Professor. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble…"

"You are no trouble to me. No trouble whatsoever. Don't ever think that. And it's _Severus_. I think we are past such formalities in private…"

Severus picked up the book of Shakespeare's sonnets and read out loud until Niamh fell into a deep dreamless sleep.


	4. And So It Begins

**Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.**

**Summary: A mysterious young girl a must navigate a formidable tightrope between her precarious existence in a Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the Wizarding world of Harry Potter. **_**This is an intense story with occasional violence from the start. AU. The First of a planned Trilogy. Snape/OFC Lupin/OFC**_

_**Author's Notes: **_

_**This Alternate Universe HP story was inspired by real-life story of The Magdalene Sisters, their laundries and asylums of Ireland and the more than 30,000 women who were incarcerated and victimized in them in the 20**__**th**__** century alone. Factual details are behind the details of this fanon character. **__**If any aspect of the subjects covered are offensive to your sensibilities, then this is not the story for you.**_

_**This is an intense story and rated R.**_

**Haunted by NativeMoon**

**Chapter 04: And So It Begins**

**Year One, Day One****:**

Niamh looked around at the hustle and bustle that was King's Cross Railway Station. A garbled voice called out instructions and travel information over a seriously deficient tannoy sound system. People were in a frantic rush to make their trains and were others milling around looking cross, bored or tired coping with the usual delays and with not being able to understand a single word of the announcements. And still more were grabbing a bite to eat or doing some shopping in the few shops that served the station.

Snape piled Niamh's things on a trolley and then casually walked to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. They were facing a brick wall.

"Do you remember what we talked about?" he asked quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.

Niamh nodded 'yes'. It had sounded so fantastic she almost thought he was winding her up. But after everything she had seen him do in Belfast and then her unforgettable experience in Diagon Alley, there was no reason to doubt him anymore.

The Potions Master looked around as he took her hand.

"_Now…"_

They walked forward quickly and to Niamh's shock they did indeed walk through the barrier just as he'd said they would.

_TOOOOOOT TOOOOOOT HISSSSS_

To their left was the Hogwarts Express, a gleaming red 19th century steam engine, just as she'd been told. Niamh stood open-mouthed and trembling slightly at the sight of it. This was no dream. It was all very real and more than a bit intimidating. Once again, her life was changing dramatically.

"Everything will be alright, " Snape said quietly. "Stay right here. I have to check on your carriage…"

Niamh nodded, but deep down hoped he would hurry up and come back. Students were beginning to arrive and to mill around looking from friends and housemates from school. The pandemonium of the first day back to school was setting in. She was on display in public and did not like it.

"Bloody Hell, what hell is _that_?" came a booming voice with a Scottish accent.

Predictably, Niamh was being stared at.

"There you go, Niall! Hot BJ material for you!" roared another boy in the little group that gathered to see what the fuss was about.

"_Is that really necessary?" came a disapproving voice. "Leave her alone!"_

"She your _girlfriend _Diggory? So is she good at doing the business or what?" came a voice with a distinct Irish accent.

Whoever the troublemaker was, he had to be from Belfast County – Magdalene territory. Niamh had heard that accent enough when the inmates were paraded on show through town during the religious festivals. She tried not to react. She didn't believe that Hogwarts would be much different when it came to how she was regarded. She was ugly no matter where she went. Still, it cut like a knife to be hated and humiliated…especially for something she had no control over.

"_Bugger off you lot!"_ said the still disapproving Cedric Diggory in a warning tone of voice.

Even at the age of 14 he was a strapping lad. He could easily give all of them a solid thumping and they bloody well knew it. He strolled over to the young girl. Niamh looked at the boy who seemed to be more than a bit brave to not go along with his friends. And her mouth nearly fell open. Why would someone who looked like _that_ defend someone who looked like _her_.

"Hi, I'm Cedric Diggory. I'm in Hufflepuff," he said extending his hand.

Niamh quirked an eyebrow. She wasn't about to trust him. Not that easily.

"I won't bite," he said quietly as he took her hand, placed it in his and shook it. "You're welcome to sit with me and my friends if you want…erm…what's your name?"

"N...Niamh…_Niamh Caeoimhin_…" came a hesitant answer.

"Nice to meet you Niamh," Cedric said sincerely.

He thought fleetingly to himself that her voice sounded lovely…like music.

"OOOOOO get you, Diggory! Feckin' hell you must be desperate to pull that! Wouldn't catch me ridin' it! No telling what it's got!" roared the Irish boy.

"You wouldn't get me to ride it even with a bag over its head!" roared another. "I'd rather do a troll!"

"I told you to back the hell up!" Cedric hissed as he advanced on the group. "Shut it and get lost! Leave her alone – all of you!"

"_**Doolan! O'Neill! 20 points each will be taken from your house!" **_roared Professor Snape as he moved menacingly towards the dispersing group. _**"And detention with Filch – for two weeks including weekends!"**_

"Now you've done it," Cedric said angrily. The points had all just come off of Hufflepuff. The term hadn't even started and they were already down by 40 in house points. "What's she done to you anyway? Bugger off you lot!"

Professor Snape's presence was enough to ensure that they all scattered to the rear carriages of the train.

"Bloody hell, what's _he_ doing here?" a voice echoed back.

"Like I said, you're welcome to sit with me and my friends," Cedric said addressing Niamh.

He was one of the few people that had never been intimidated by the Potions Master. He didn't like Snape, but he knew how to handle himself to get along as well as he could do and get decent enough marks in Potions. At least he wasn't persistantly humiliated and sacrificed like some students were.

"Run along to your little playmates, Diggory!" Professor Snape snarled venomously.

Cedric took a step back and looked at Niamh.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "But I'm sorted already…"

Professor Snape grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards the front carriage, usually reserved for the Headmaster and each Head of House. Like all most railway transport, there was a class system woefully in place even on the Hogwarts Express. The students traveled in the equivalent of Standard Class on Muggle trains – which was Third Class in 19th Century terms.

Cedric could only stare open-mouthed at the incredulous site of the most despised figure in school dressed in Muggle clothes helping the young girl aboard the train. As far as anyone knew Snape couldn't even so much as pull a prostitute let alone father a child. He was more than curious as to who she was, poor thing. It was enough to be scarred and so badly without adding Snape to the equation. Cedric fleetingly thought it must have been one hell of a Potions mishap that had caused such severe injuries.

This just didn't make sense. The Potions Master managing to have a daughter should be on the front pages of the Daily and Evening Prophets so shocking was the news. No, no way could she be his kid...could she? Maybe he was looking after her for someone. But she had black hair just like his. It was nothing short of incredible; the Potions Master having a daughter.

It didn't deter the popular Hufflepuff though.

'He can't keep me from getting to know her at school,' Cedric thought to himself as he secured a carriage near the front of the train.

The journey was six hours long. Even Snape had to nod off sometime. If Niamh was like any other kid she would be stretching her legs a bit. Sooner or later she would have to use the bathroom or get something to eat from the snack bar in the cafe carriage since it was in between the First Class carriages for the Headmaster and staff and the ones for everyone else.

He would try to talk to her later he thought to himself as he took a seat in the first standard carriage nearest the Cafe.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Niamh watched the goings on of the platform from the relative isolation of the First-Class carriages.

"Who was that?" she asked quietly as she sat across from Professor Snape.

Severus quirked an eyebrow.

"No one you need concern yourself with."

"He was nice. I should at least thank him for what he did, defending me like that in public."

"Hmmph," sniffed Professor Snape. "And I wonder why that is…"

Niamh blinked and looked hurt.

"So he wants something then…"

Too late Severus realised that he should have kept that thought to himself. Still, even by Diggory's standards it wouldn't make sense for him to go after Niamh for what he could get from her. He was one of the best-looking and most popular boys at Hogwarts. The Hufflepuff could have his pick of girls from what the Potions Master had observed, especially the attractive ones.

"No, I am not saying that…" he said cautiously.

"Then what did you mean then? Someone like him wouldn't be nice to someone like me without a reason, right?"

"No…I…no not at all…" came the answer in a faltering voice.

"Then what?"

Severus was actually having to think of an answer.

"You don't have pretend with me, Severus. We both know what I look like. I will never have a chance with someone like him! I won't ever have a chance with _anyone_! So no need to be concerned about that, alright?!"

Niamh closed the curtains of the door window facing the platform just as _The Boy Who Lived_ came on to it for the first time. Tears streamed down her face.

"Niamh I'm sorry," Severus said regretfully. "That's not what I meant!"

"Yes, yes you did! And it's the truth! We both know it! People aren't usually nice to me without wanting something. So far you are the only exception to that. You tell me I'm lovely and you believe it. But no one else will. No one will ever want to be bothered with me for anything more than what I have between my legs, if that. I know what I look like. Not a day goes by without me being reminded of it…!"

Severus just didn't have it in him to try and tell her any different about what she believed was her fate. It was not in his nature to give false hope or build unrealistic expectations. And for someone like Niamh – it would be very unfair.

"Diggory…seems a decent enough lad…" he said grudgingly. "He is quite popular…that could be quite useful to you…"

"Right; he's popular. So no reason for him to lower himself to be bothered with the likes of me…or for me to get ideas above my station," Niamh said coldly. "Forget I even asked…"

She didn't want to use anyone any more than she wanted to be used and told him so point-blank.

There was nothing Snape could do to smooth this over. The truth was painful and laid bare. Niamh really did not have any real chance at the usual sorts of things the majority of other girls her at Hogwarts took for granted, including the affections of the opposite sex. If nothing else, the fact that she came from Magdalene only served to confirm the stark reality of her situation. That, and the fact that of the horrors she'd been fortunate to survive.

Niamh stared out the large window on the other side of the carriage.

For the first time in his life Severus Snape regretted having put his rather large flat feet in his even bigger mouth. He had hurt the one person in the world he cared about and who accepted him unconditionally.

**XxxOOOxxX**

The landscape flew by and Niamh finally tore her eyes from the window after pulling the curtains closed to block out the intense brightness of the afternoon sun. Severus sat across from her in silence and was uncharacteristically filled with remorse, despairing that she must hate him now. They had sat for almost three hours not saying a word to each other. Or rather Niamh had sat and not said one word to him other than the odd _'yes' _or_ 'no'_. She had not even looked at him as she did so. After a time she just didn't say anything. No doubt she would be happy be free of him at last, the Potions Master thought to himself as he gave up on trying engage her in conversation.

Finally Niamh looked over at Snape as he slouched down on his seat and tried to swallow a lump in his throat that would not budge.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry…please believe me…"

"I know; so am I…"

"Please don't hate me Niamh, I could not bear it…"

He knew that she was in for a rude awakening about him once they were within the confines of Hogwarts. It would not escape her notice how despised he was amongst the other students. Wizards had made him who he was as much as his own choices had and there was not much about him that was ever likely to change.

"I don't hate you. It's nothing to do with you, OK?" she said gently.

"It was because of me…"

"Let's drop it, please…"

She couldn't understand why he was acting this way.

Snape nodded. But deep inside was fearful.

"Nothing has changed between us; don't worry."

"Really?" he whispered.

It was fairly obvious he was going through what for him was an uncharacteristic bout of emotional openness. This was down to the magical nature of Niamh as much as it was the situation itself. However, it would be sometime before the Potions Master realised this.

"Mmm hmm," Niamh said with a nod as she looked over at him. "No matter how painful it might get between us – I'm not going to hate you. You'll still be my Guardian Angel."

Severus could only stare at her in wonderment.

"You look tired…get some sleep. I'm fine," Niamh said quietly.

Severus was tired. After all, they'd had an early start. He had been stressing himself with worry that he'd lost her. Now that the crisis was blowing over the adrenaline was wearing off.

Niamh began to softly sing a song in a mixture of Irish Gaelic and English.

_I wish I were on yonder hill  
`Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill  
Till every tear would turn a mill  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

_Suil, suil, suil a ruin  
Suil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Suil go doras agus ealaigh liom  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

_I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel  
I'll sell my only spinning wheel  
And buy my love a sword of steel  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

_Suil, suil, suil a ruin  
Suil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Suil go doras agus ealaigh liom  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

_I wish, I wish, I wish in vain  
I wish I had my heart again  
And vainly think I'd not complain  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

_Suil, suil, suil a ruin  
Suil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Suil go doras agus ealaigh liom  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

_Suil, suil, suil a ruin  
Suil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Suil go doras agus ealaigh liom  
__Is go dtéigh tú mo bhóirtn slán_

It surprised Snape to hear Niamh sing. Her hauntingly beautiful voice wrapped itself around him and it was as though he was pulled to a place outside of time and space. He couldn't even make out the carriage around them or that they were even moving.

What was happening between them was almost otherworldly as Niamh continued with her lament.

The Potions Master could only think this momentary lapse of reason was a testament to how tired was. This had to be a dream – an unbelievably fantastic dream. He found himself falling into the deepest sleep he would ever have for years to come.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Once Snape was asleep Niamh took down a pillow and blanket in the compartment overhead and made him comfortable. He was not one to sleep much and would no doubt be hungry when he woke up. She made her way to the café car to get some food for them both. She knew that had intended to go himself eventually, but as she was hungry and had nothing else to distract her she decided to take matters into her own hands.

There was no point in hiding behind the Professor's robes. She was going to have to stand on her own two feet from here on out. Hogwarts was not going to be any different to Magdalene in some respects. That much was obvious.

Niamh made her way through the two cars that comprised First Class. There were a few students already at the snack bar waiting to be served and she quietly took her place behind them. Some stared at her, others stole surreptitious glances. But all continued their conversations around her.

"Well look who it is! _Scarface!_" sniffed Sam O'Neill, one of her Irish tormenters from Platform 9 ¾.

"Hey Scarface where's your boyfriend?!" asked the other, James Doolan.

Niamh ignored them both and looked out the window as she waited her turn.

"Hey bitch!" James Doolan hissed in as menacing a tone as he could muster, "Thanks to you we lost house points!"

Niamh continued to ignore them. The rest of the students cleared out into the vestibule between the café and the first standard carriage.

All except two.

New friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley looked at each other and then stood next to the young girl on either side. They weren't too fussed about the sweet treats Harry had intended treating them to along with hot food. They could always get some from the trolley as it came through the train in a while.

"We're talking to you; you little tart!" said James.

"Why don't you leave her alone!" said Harry as he glared at the two bullies.

They reminded him too much of his cousin Dudley Dursley and his partner in crime Piers Polkiss. Dudley and Piers always went out of their way to make his life hee was glad to be well shot of them. Nobody should have to put up with bullying.

"Why don't you mind your own business four-eyes!" said Sam.

"Messing with a girl – makes you feel big does it?" said Harry.

"Why don't you crawl back under whatever rock it is you came from," said Ron with a glare of his own.

"So – cheap little ride are yeh?" said James to Niamh. "Why else would any of them bother over a little piece of shyte like you."

He stepped up to Niamh and Harry and Ron stepped forward to him. But before James could lay a hand on her he was grabbed and thrown against the carriage wall.

"You lay one hand on her and I will make you sorry you were ever born," Cedric said angrily. "Stay away from her! Take this is a promise I will bloody well have you if you so much as look at her cross-eyed. That goes for the both of you and anyone else stupid enough to push their luck!"

James glared at Cedric and jerked his head at his mate to come on.

"You owe her an apology," Cedric said menacingly.

"Piss off Diggory! You can't make me do anything! You aren't a bloody Prefect!" said James as he pushed his way past his angry housemate.

"Since when are you following that moron around?" Cedric asked Sam. "I never figured you to be so thick; or ignorant! He's nothing but trouble, keep it up and you'll end on the wrong end of somebody's wand."

Sam pushed past Cedric and James.

"What?" James called after him. "Feckin' Hell!"

Sam wasn't stupid. Only a fool would go up against Cedric Diggory. And whoever she was, harassing her wasn't worth it. He said so and was overheard by everyone who had witnessed the bust-up.

"_Go on you wanker! Who needs you anyway?"! _said James as he pushed past Sam and stormed back to his carriage. He didn't give a shyte – that girl was going to pay for this…big time.

There was a moment of silence and then the students piled back into the café car.

"You alright?" Harry asked Niamh quietly.

Niamh nodded 'yes'.

"Thanks for what you did – sticking your neck out like that," she said softly.

"No problem. I'm Harry, Harry Potter, by the way…" he said sticking out his hand.

"Nice to meet you Harry…I'm Niamh; Niamh Caeoimhin."

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," said Ron extending his hand. "You a First Year too?"

"Yes – you?"

Ron nodded _'yes' _as Harry asked for four hot Cornish Pasties and Bertie Botts Colas. He was relieved to see that even wizards appreciated British Muggle foods.

"Well – see you later Niamh. You're welcome to come sit with us if you want. We're in the middle of the train…"

"Thanks, but I'm ok…"

"OK – well if you want to hang out for a little while it's alright – just us back there…" said Harry as they turned to leave since he'd bought their hot food.

"Thanks – that's very nice of you…"

Harry and Ron made their way back to their carriage to wait for the plump witch with the Snack Trolley of cold items and sweets.

It was just Cedric and Niamh now.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me," Niamh said hesitantly. "Most people wouldn't bother to stand up to their own friends."

Even though Severus was suspicious of him, as he was most people, she had the strong feeling that Cedric Diggory was a decent lad.

Cedric went bright red.

"I'm happy to help," he said quietly. "Sam is usually alright when he isn't around James; but James is a nasty piece of work and he's not my friend. I'm really sorry that it was my housemates giving you so much grief. No one deserves that kind of treatment…"

"You two going to stand here having a chin-wag all day?!" barked the harried counter assistant.

He was anxious to put his feet up and look through his battered copy of Witch Hustler magazine.

Niamh and Cedric placed their orders.

"I guess you're heading back up front with Professor Snape…" Cedric said quietly as they waited.

"Yes…"

"Erm…can I ask you a question?"

"I guess one wouldn't hurt," said Niamh with a gentle smile.

Cedric fleetingly thought she had a lovely smile and then cleared his throat.

"What is he to you? I mean – are you related or something?"

"No. I'm...I have no family. I live in an...orphanage...in Belfast. He agreed to go get me and sort things out since I was clueless about all this. Professor McGonagall is my Legal Guardian now though."

Cedric failed to hide his surprise.

"That was...nice of him," he sputtered. "I mean I hope he was nice... _nevermind_."

"He's been very decent to me; much better than I usually have to deal with."

The Potions Master being "decent" was nothing short of incredulous…and ridiculous.

"_Bloody hell…"_ he muttered out loud.

"Something wrong?" Niamh asked suspiciously.

"Erm, no…it's just…surprising is all. Professor McGonagall... she's tough but fair in her classroom. I actually like Transfiguration."

"...but not Potions, I take it," Niamh commented.

"Not particularly, to be honest. Listen, I was just thinking…well…if you want…we could pair up for the First Year Orientation. All of you will basically get someone that's sort of a Big Brother or Big Sister – you know, to show you around, help you get situated and the like."

Niamh thought for a minute. Cedric offering was certainly better than someone who had to be pushed into it. And at least she sort of knew him.

"Alright then…thanks…" she replied hesitantly.

"Great," Cedric said with a big smile. "I'll talk to Professor McGonagall after the Welcoming Feast. You will find out in the morning when you get your timetable for the classes you'll be having."

"Fair enough. Well…I need to get back."

"Cool – if I don't see you later I'll try to catch up with you at breakfast tomorrow. After the Welcoming Feast the House Prefects take you to your House and the rest of the night is getting yourself settled. With the Sorting and everything else you'll have a busy night ahead."

"Thanks Cedric," Niamh said with a big dimpled smile. "Thanks a lot."

She grabbed her two bags of food and made her way back to her sleeping Guardian Angel, completely unaware of the other one watching her as she did so.

**XxxOOOxxX**

_Snape found himself on an isolated country lane. He had never seen anything like this before. The colours were so vivid, the flora and landscape so lush. He looked around. He seemed to be at sort of a dead end. It was quite strange – whenever he tried to veer from the path he would be pushed back onto it by some unknown energy. It was obvious that there was only one way for him – so off he went._

_It was very surreal. But what choice did he have? He was aware that he was asleep and must be dreaming. But this was no dream – no ordinary dream. _

_He kept walking up the steep hill in front of him. Finally he reached the summit and looked down. Nestled in a lush green valley was a settlement of some sort.__It seemed as though he was expected. There was a gathering of people below and a procession was already coming towards him._

_The Potions Master had never seen anything quite like them before. They were ethereal in looks and movement. The rich, vibrant colour of their hair and eyes. Their dark-honey coloured skin had a dewy sheen and he supposed it must be quite soft to the touch._

_Niamh._

_She should be here with him, but she wasn't. He didn't know how he knew, he just knew that she should be here with him. The fact that she wasn't made him uncharacteristically panicked._

"_Niamh?" he called out looking behind him._

_It occurred to him fleetingly that it was strange to be looking for her when he'd been by himself all this time. But he knew that somehow this was important for Niamh. But she wasn't there._

"_Severus…" came the soft musical timbre of Niamh's voice through the air._

_The place seemed to come alive even more. There was a strange humming in the air that he hadn't picked up on before._

"_Niamh?" he shouted as the strange otherwordly people moved closer. They were as startled as he was and this was exciting them. They were even more desperate to talk to him._

"_Severus…"_

_The strange folk were closing in on him fast. They were intent on reaching him, that much was certain._

"_NIAMH!" he roared as they surrounded him._

_There was jolt of some sort that ran through his body._

_And then everything went dark._

**XxxOOOxxX**

"_Severus." _Niamh said softly as she gently shook him awake.

"Niamh? What?" came a panicked mumble as Severus struggled to regain consciousness.

"_Severus, wake up!"_

He felt strange – as if he had been drugged.

The Potions Master sat up slowly to counter the dizziness as his eyes began to focus.

"Are you alright?"

"I…don't know…" he mumbled hoarsely. He was shaking uncontrollably

"Wait a minute…"

Niamh retreated to the small bathroom across from their compartment and came back with a dampened towel. She gently mopped the beads of sweat from Snape's face and hands and helped him to drink a cold glass of water. She moved her hands over his face and he felt a slight tingling.

The Potions Master let her care for him and took slow deep breaths as she did so. There was something about the way she touched him – as if she were acting on instinct. The feel of her hands against his skin; it wasn't something he was familiar with, not even from the healers at St. Mungos.

"Better?" Niamh asked quietly when she was done.

"Yes…you must be a natural healer," he said hoarsely as he took in his surroundings.

Once again there were the familiar movements and sounds of the Hogwarts Express as it chugged and puffed along.

"I bought us some food," Niamh said as she pulled out a little table and arranged their food and cool drinks. "I went into your money bag…"

Severus nodded as she handed him the change.

Both ate their meals in silence. The Potions Master found that he was ravenous, and was grateful that Niamh had come out of her shell enough to brave the café car before it closed.

"How was it?" he asked softly. "The other students…"

Niamh took a deep breath and averted his gaze.

"Fine."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. He was treading on thin ice and needed to be very careful. But no way would he accept that all was well. He knew better than anyone how vicious young people could be, the vitriolic hatred they were capable of. Relatively few ever really grew out of it in his experience.

Niamh was quite used to the look on his countenance.

"Not everyone is going to tolerate me, Severus. But some people aren't afraid to give me a chance either. It's no different than Magdalene. I know you mean well, but I have to stand on my own two feet. I can't hide behind your robes."

Severus gave her a slight smile.

"That is most certainly true. But I am always here for you, regardless…"

"I know; and I am grateful for it too."

**XxxOOOxxX**

"Time to wake up. We will arrive at Hogsmead Station soon," said Severus.

Niamh yawned and stretched; she felt so warm and safe – a complete contrast to life at Magdalene with the Sisters and some of the other inmates. She looked up into the onyx black eyes of her Guardian Angel.

Severus finally understood.

"Scared?" he whispered as the lights flickered on in the carriage.

"Yes," she revealed truthfully.

"It will be alright," Severus said quietly. "You can whisper to the hat what your preference is and that will be taken into account. But once it's decision is made, it's final. There is no room to appeal or make changes later on. We must respect tradition, Niamh. It exists for a purpose."

Niamh sniffed and nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry I'm so stupid…"

"You are nothing of the kind," he murmured. "After the life you have been lucky to survive…this is all overwhelming I know."

Niamh grabbed her school uniform and robes for the sorting from the small satchel he had brought on board for her. Once washed and dressed she returned and sat next to him.

"I'm so lucky I have you."

"You will always have me, Niamh, no matter what."

_TOOOOOOT TOOOOOOT_

"NEXT STOP HOGSMEADE! LAST CALL!" announced the plump witch who pushed the tea trolley.

"It would be best if you took a place with whomever it was that was friendly to you earlier for the remaining hour or so," Snape muttered.

Niamh cleared her throat.

"Yes – until we arrive at the station and then for the ride across the lake, like you told me about…"

Severus nodded.

Niamh stood up and walked to the door of their carriage with Severus close behind her. He grabbed her free hand as the other rested on the door latch.

"Whatever happens in the coming days and weeks...' he said quietly. "Nevermind. Off with you and good luck with your Sorting."

Niamh took a deep breath as she nodded and then disappeared.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Harry and Ron were finishing a game of Exploding Snap when a quiet cough interrupted them along with a knock.

"Hey Niamh, come on in," said Ron beckoning to her.

"We were hoping you'd change your mind," said Harry as he dealt a new hand and included her.

Ron explained how the game was played.

"Erm – would you mind if I came with you across the lake?" Niamh asked quietly.

"What?" asked Harry, clearly clueless.

"Oh yeah – I forgot about that," said Ron. "The First Years go with Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Groundsman. Usually it's just a few to a boat and we go across the lake. It's got a giant squid; doesn't do anything except wave its tentacles about now and then from what I've heard..."

Niamh didn't exactly know what a squid was and so remained quiet.

"Ouchl!" said Harry shaking his head in disbelief at what he'd just heard. "Bloody Hell!"

He looked down.

"Erm Niamh – you won!"

"Really?" she asked beaming.

Harry held up a singed finger.

"Got me pretty good too…" he smiled.

Niamh and Ron dueled to the finish with Ron getting very lucky at the last minute. The young girl had quick reflexes though and didn't get singed nearly as bad as Harry had.

"Nice one, Niamh. Pretty good for your first try…" said Ron admiringly.

Once again the door to their carriage slide open.

"Card games? _Honestly_…" sniffed Hermione Granger, a buck-toothed girl bushy-haired girl who had barged in on the boys earlier. She had been too dismissive of Ron, which didn't go down very well with either of the boys. "You two should change into your robes. We will be arriving soon."

Both boys ignored her and started prodding the cards so that they exploded much to Hermione's annoyance.

She gave their new companion a look.

"And you are?" she said in a bossy, rather superior tone. "Haven't seen _you_ about. Been hiding yourself away?"

Niamh looked her up and down. There were one two many bossy boots like her back at Magdalene. No way was she having that from the likes of Lady Muck here. She was one to talk with the way she looked.

"That's none of your business. On either account," said Niamh as she stood up.

Hermione took a step back.

"Whatever," she said dismissively, turning her attention to Ron. "You have dirt on your nose. Do you care?"

"Who are you, his mother?" said Niamh who was clearly annoyed.

"I'm Hermione Granger!" sniffed Bossy Boots.

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Whatever," Niamh replied dismissively as she pushed Hermione through the door and closed it.

Harry and Ron fell about laughing and gave each other a High Five handslap.

Bossy Boots stomped down the corridor to the carriage where she had been annoying other students. They weren't pleased to have her come back.

"Merlin please put her anywhere but my house," moaned Ron.

Suddenly the train began to go very slow.

"Must be approaching the station," said Harry getting up. He and Ron made a quick change of their clothes as Niamh turned her back and blocked the door window.

"OK all set," said Harry.

Niamh turned around. Another few minutes and then the train stopped. Ron was the first to leave followed by Niamh and then Harry. The news had traveled fast about the altercation in the café car earlier. Niamh was stared at and murmurs followed her all the way to the platform.

"_Firs' Years! Firs' Years over here!" came a booming voice in the lamplit darkness._

Niamh looked over and her jaw dropped at the sight of the giant man. She followed Ron down a rather odd ramp to the moorings which had the little boat they would travel in. Her heart was beating so fast; this was _the_ journey to the rest of her life.

"'Lo there, Harry! Watch yer step now young lady!" said Hagrid as Niamh was jostled by a gang of students angling to be in the first boats.

She returned her attention to the matter at hand and continued down the zig-zagging ramp to the moorings.

Ron stepped in and held out a hand to Niamh who was visibly trembling.

"Don't worry – we've got you," said Harry as he stepped in and reached out to help her in too.

Hagrid gave him a wink and then turned his attention to the other boats. The boys helped Niamh in and she took a seat next to Harry. In a couple minutes all the boats were loaded and they set off. Niamh looked around her in the lamplit darkness. The majestic beauty of the Scottish Highlands landscape was something to behold even in darkness. She looked back towards where the station was but couldn't see anything.

"_Woah!"_ Harry whispered.

Looming straight ahead of them was Hogwarts.

"_Jaysis, Mary and Joseph,"_ Niamh whispered as she gave Harry's hand a squeeze.

"_Bloody Brilliant!" _sighed Ron in awe. Though he had grown up hearing a lot about Hogwarts from his older brothers, it was still something else to finally be going himself. He hung on to the post holding their candlelit lamp and did not take his eyes off of the majestic castle as it loomed closer and closer.

After 20 minutes they were moving underneath the school and then came to a stop. Hagrid directed them out in twos and sent them up a winding staircase into to the grand Entrance Hall. Niamh stood next to Neville Longbottom (who politely introduced himself) and in back of Harry and Ron.

They made their way up and stood nervously at grand staircase as directed. There was a lot of whispering going on and then three boys stepped forward. Or rather one boy flanked by two appointed bodyguards.

"_So it's true then; what they were saying on the train," _said a boy with a pointed face and silver-blonde hair. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. This is Crabbe," he said gesturing, "and this is Goyle. I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Harry looked the boy up and down. He recognised him from the robes shop in Diagon Alley earlier that day. The boy had been just as irritating then as he was now. But before Harry could respond there was a slight snigger.

Malfoy's head whipped around.

"Red hair, Poor and hand-me-down robes! No need to ask who you are. You must be a Weasley!" he sneered to Ron's embarrassment.

Niamh had a face like thunder as she stood behind Ron and discreetly touched his back.

"_Arsehole,"_ she whispered low enough only for Ron and Harry to hear.

"You don't want to go around with the wrong sort Potter. I can help you there," Malfoy said sticking out hand.

Harry looked him straight in the eye with a glare as he told him:

"_I can decide who the wrong sort is for myself thank you very much!"_

Malfoy gave him a dirty look but before he could say anything he was tapped on the shoulder with a rather thick roll of parchment. He looked up into the face of a very stern-looking witch. Her glare was enough to curdle milk and had Neville Longbottom quaking in his shoes. Malfoy turned for his friends but they had already scarpered. He spotted them and slunk to the back after giving Harry and Ron what was supposed to be a menacing look.

"_I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration. Welcome to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…"_

And so began Niamh's induction into the Wizarding world and formal education. She listened attentively as Professor McGonagall explained about the School and its House system and then finally the Sorting. At this moment there was a loud croak and Neville jumped forward to collect his toad Trevor who had a habit of going missing and usually at the wrong time. After a withering look from the Deputy Headmistress he stepped back into line next to Niamh.

Up this last staircase they went and the doors to the Great Hall opened at a flick of Professor McGonagall's hands.

Niamh processed in, as awestruck as the rest of her classmates. She looked up at the hundreds of candles floating in mid-air and the ceiling bewitched to reflect the sky outside.

"_This is mad – but beautiful," _she whispered softly to herself.

"_Yeah – isn't it just," _replied Harry under his breath.

"_Cool,"_ said Ron.

The young girl looked straight ahead and her heart leapt as she saw Severus with his usual dour countenance reserved for the school. The warmth that been ever-present for her was non-existent. It was hard to reconcile the cold, almost hateful figure seated at the Professor's tables with the man she had become attached to over the past few days. There was no acknowledgment, no flicker of movement. There was nothing for her. Here she was just another student and there would be no tenderness or caring for her in his classroom and his manner would remain reserved even as her Tutor.

Niamh stood at attention and tried not to look at the Potions Master as the Sorting got underway. There was a rather ancient looking wizard dressed in the most impressive robes of all the teachers. She supposed he must be the Headmaster to look so grand. At last Professor McGonagall came down to the last of the new friends and the last of the names to be sorted for this year.

"_Caeoimhin, Niamh!"_

Niamh stepped forward nervously amidst much twittering and hissed commentary from the tables. Even some of the teachers were whispering amongst themselves. It killed her to be on show publicly and she buried her feelings and will herself not to cry.

"_OOOOOOO MMMMMMYYYYYYYY!" exclaimed the Sorting Hat once Professor McGonagall put it on Niamh's head. "There is no one like you. A precious one. So gifted, so rare. There truly is no a place for you – exalted should YOU be above others in this realm! I know what your heart desires, but the ancient House of the Serpent is no place for one such as you. You would be more than suitable for Ravenclaw, but __**all things considered**__, you had better be placed in GRYFFINDOR!"_

There was the sound of some slow handclaps at the Gryffindor table, But both of the Weasley twins and their friend in pranking mayhem Lee Jordan clapped enthusiastically along with Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean Thomas and most of the Quidditch team including Oliver Wood, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson. Many at the table only clapped once and then sat sullenly.

Niamh hopped off the stool and took a seat in between Neville and Dean. She looked up at the professor's tables with disappointment written all over her face. She had so wanted to be sorted into Slytherin.

Professor Dumbledore noticed the pained expression on the young girl's face as he gave a short but strange and funny little speech. After he took his seat for dinner he discreetly raised his goblet to her and then Harry. He decided to have a chat with Niamh after classes the next day. She could not help what had been done to her and he wanted her to know that she did have a home and her home was Hogwarts.

**XxxOOOxxX**

The rest of the evening passed quickly. After dinner the Gryffindor Prefects showed the First Years to their dormitories. Gryffindor Tower was some distance away from Slytherin and the only way to gain entrance was by giving the correct password to the The Fat Lady, whose giant portrait guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The Common Room was their designated space to relax after a hard day's work hitting the books. The circular room was decidedly impressive, but comfy with its squishy armchairs, antique carpets, scarlet tapestries and the large fireplace that dominated one whole section of the wall. A rather large bulletin board was mounted above a table between two bookcases and a wireless set that they were expected to share to listen to music and news on the Wizarding News Networks. There were several alcoves in several parts of the wall for those that wanted a bit more privacy and a few other rooms that led off the hallway leading to the Common Room, one of which was a Quiet Room to be used for studying only.

"Right," said Percy Weasley, Ron's eldest brother at the school and the Gryffindor Prefect as he scanned his list, "Starting from the top of the Tower downwards... _Girl's Dormitory Eight: Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Hermione Granger, Fay Dunbar and Niamh Caeoimhin!_"

As the entrance to their Common Room was on the Seventh Floor of the castle as it was, it seemed that Niamh and her roommates were going to be blessed with impressive views across the grounds at the very least. She stepped off to the side as two girls tore up the stairs to the top-most dormitory, nearly knocking over other students in the process.

"_Jaysis help me,"_ she muttered before sighing and sloping off behind the rest of her roommates.

Finally she reached what would be her home at Hogwarts for seven years. There were five canopied mahogany beds arranged around the circular room along with a night table, desk and chair, chest of drawers and Wardrobe for each girl and a large pot-bellied wood-burning stove in the middle of the room.

"_First Come, First Served,"_ Lavender Brown said smugly as she and Parvati sat on the beds nearest the biggest windows in the room – windows that went almost from the floor to the ceiling.

It looked as though the girls had originally been assigned to particular spaces because the House-Elves had placed their trunks and cases accordingly. Parvati and Lavender still weren't done moving things around – and neither wanted to be near Niamh, that much was obvious. Originally she was in between the two of them on the far side of the room.

"That's not fair!" Fay snapped. "If we're going to be changing things around then at the very least we should draw straws or something!"

Niamh looked over at the large stained glass windows and noted silently that those two beds would catch the cold in winter and the brightness of the sun in the early mornings when they weren't waking up in the dark. She moved near Fay and Hermione and gestured to them while Parvati and Lavender continued to babble about their entitlement to what they considered to be the best spaces in the room.

Niamh whispered quietly and said it was better to let the two spoiled brats have their precious large windows.

"_Really? How can you be so sure?"_ Fay muttered.

"Experience. The orphanage where I'm from in Belfast is on a hill and the sleeping quarters have floor-to-ceiling windows. No curtains and no heat either. An old building like this – they'll be begging for extra blankets in winter and keeping their bed-curtains closed so that the sun doesn't wake them up before the alarm clock does more often than not."

'She has a point," Hermione sighed, faintly annoyed.

"You're an orphan? For real?" Fay spluttered with wide eyes.

"You guys might as well stay where you are since you're unpacking and everything," Niamh said loudly. "Like you said - _"First Come, First Serve"_.

"I knew you would come to your senses!" Lavender said before letting out an unmistakable squeal of triumph. She and Parvati carried on talking and unpacking as though the other three girls weren't there.

"So all we need to do is decide who goes where," said Fay. "I'd prefer to be nearer the door – if nobody minds. I have to get up for the bathroom in the middle of the night sometimes."

"Fine with me," said Niamh. "I'm happy with the space I was assigned, unless you want to move there Hermione?"

"No problem with me on either account," said Hermione. She hadn't hit it off with either girl but Fay seemed a bit too full-on for her. She was still irritated with Niamh over the incident on the train but at least she would be the buffer between her and Fay.

Niamh helped the other two girls switch their belongings around and then the everyone worked on organising their space.

A small gold name plate appeared on the headboard of each bed with their respective names on it.

"Well that's that," Fay said. "This the arrangement for the rest of our time here."

"Says who?" Parvati demanded. "I like to change things up. You know, move things around a bit when the mood takes me, change with the seasons and all that...'

"Says the bulletin board in the Common Room that you obviously didn't read!" Hermione commented with a shake of her bushy head.

"It's tradition – and you can't go against tradition," Niamh said quietly as she put away the tins of treats Severus had packed without her knowing.

"Please – a House-Elf could make the changes easily!"

"Well none the House-Elves were here to move things around or unpack for us, now were they," Fay said rolling her eyes as Parvati and Lavendar stormed out of the room, headed towards the Common Room.

Hermione followed after them and headed for the bathroom the five girls would also share. Their places were assigned based on the final arrangement of their room. They each had their own shower cubicle and sink but shared the two toilets and a bathtub. As with their bed-chamber, the arrangement was final.

"What are House-Elves?" Niamh asked.

"They're magical creatures devoted and loyal to the one who is their Master," Fay explained. "Our House-Elves have been with us for ages. They do whatever we need them to around the house."

"So they're like servants?"

"Yeah..."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"So what's this orphanage like where you live?" Fay asked just before Hermione walked back into the room.

"It's not worth talking about," Niamh sniffed before picking up her package of toiletries and heading to the bathroom.

When got back Lavender and Parvati had returned and the rest of the night was a mercifully quiet one as the five girls settled in.


	5. The Potions Master

**Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask. JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers.**

**Summary: A mysterious young girl a must navigate a formidable tightrope between her precarious existence in a Magdalene Asylum and Laundry and the Wizarding world of Harry Potter. **_**This is an intense story with occasional violence from the start. AU. The First of a planned Trilogy. Snape/OFC Lupin/OFC**_

_**Author's Notes: **_

_**This Alternate Universe HP story was inspired by real-life story of The Magdalene Sisters, their laundries and asylums of Ireland and the more than 30,000 women who were incarcerated and victimized in them in the 20**__**th**__** century alone. Factual details are behind the details of this fanon character. **__**If any aspect of the subjects covered are offensive to your sensibilities, then this is not the story for you.**_

_**This is an intense story and rated R.**_

**Haunted by NativeMoon**

**Chapter 05: The Potions Master**

**Year One, Day Two****: The First Day of School**

Snape sent Niamh a note summoning Niamh to the Dungeons so that he could have a quick word before breakfast. He was waiting for her outside of the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. As a result, she ended up meeting Marcus Flint, a Fourth Year and Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team after the Potions Master questioned her about her first night at Hogwarts. Flint was flanked by Riyo Delahaye, Jade Kirk and Blaise Zabini – all First Years. They too were heading towards breakfast and Flint was showing them the quickest route from Slytherin House. The word had already spread like wildfire about the strange girl and the Potions Master. None of them had expected to be faced with the realities of _that_ situation so soon.

"_Morning Sir…"_

"Flint. Delahaye, Kirk, Zabini," Snape acknowledged coolly with a slight nod.

The fact that he already knew who the incoming students were floored the First Years. Flint didn't bat an eyelash.

"Flint, have you set a date for tryouts yet?"

"A fortnight on Saturday. I expect Nott and McNair will have a go…"

"We will see about that," the Potions Master replied crisply. "Should they not meet the expected standards for skill and natural ability they will not make the team. Is that clear?"

Over his dead body would the Slytherin Quidditch Team be comprised entirely of Death Eater children.

"_Crystal…" _replied Flint as he tried awfully hard not to stare at the girl standing quietly next to his Head of House.

"Don't think we've met. I'm Marcus Flint, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team…" he said extending his hand.

"Niamh Caeoimhin…"

"_You're in Gryffindor…"_

That comment came not from Flint or any of the others, but from Draco Malfoy, the one student likely to be the biggest thorn in the Potions Master's side besides Harry Potter. As always, the two human trolls that were Crabbe and Goyle dogged his steps.

"Is there a problem Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Snape asked icily with a quirked eyebrow.

"Oh no, Sir! None at all, Sir!" Malfoy drawled sycophantically.

The last thing Draco needed was a problem with the one person who could make his life hell if he didn't toe the line. His father had made it clear in no uncertain terms that there would be hell to pay if even so much as one report regarding his behaviour was brought to his attention. Lucius Malfoy was on Hogwarts's Board of Governors. His image and standing in the Wizarding community were everything to him and his son was but an extension of that. Woe betides him, his father had said, if he did anything to tarnish the good name of Malfoy.

Draco beckoned to his two henchman and they made a quick getaway.

"Why don't you walk down with us?" asked Flint.

"You don't mind?" asked Niamh incredulously.

"Why should we mind?" asked Riyo.

Niamh looked at Snape.

The Potions Master that she would be in good hands with Flint and signified his approval with a slight nod.

"I will see you at breakfast," he said sharply before swooping bat-like down the corridor and exiting.

Everyone introduced themselves.

"We have loads of time – want to check out the Common Room?" asked Flint.

"Erm – that sort of thing isn't usually allowed, right? Won't some people be mad – like that boy?"

"Ignore Malfoy – he's got a big mouth; and that's all he's got," Blaise said rolling his eyes.

"Other than his daddy's money," Jade sneered.

The students walked through a narrow hallways and down a staircase into the Slytherin Common Room. On the opposite wall from the stairs were three large panels of glass and here were chinks of light here and there where sunlight streamed through. Niamh gasped as the giant squid waved a tentacle at them through the bluish green water. She looked around. There were built-in shelves with books, large comfortable leather chairs and sofas, and throw rugs here and there in hunter and olive green.

"This is really cool – sure beats Gryffindor," she sighed.

Before anyone could ask her, she told them all about the Common Room of her House.

"Doesn't sound so hot," Jade said.

But she was plotting as to how she could get to see it for herself.

There already some students milling about – waiting for mates to go down to breakfast or simply chilling out before having to face the inevitable burdens of classes and homework. Flint knew everyone and introduced the new students including Niamh. Not all were friendly, not even to the First Year Slytherins – but she wouldn't let it bother her. Flint had told them what to expect from which ones. His assessment of their characters was spot-on.

They made their way into the Great Hall. Flint was a treasure trove of information as he gave them details on their classes and the professors. He was very forthright about Snape when questions were put to him by Blaise, Jade and Riyo. Most of the First Years has already heard one thing or another about him and this group was no exception.

"You don't have to take my word for it – you'll see it soon enough. No sense in sugar-coating it," he replied knowingly.

Niamh was more than a little surprised, but said nothing. She looked around and saw Severus seated with the other professors just like the evening before. And once again there was no acknowledgment of her. Flint took a few minutes to introduce her to some of the other Slytherins he was friendly with. He was very picky about the company he kept and got by as best he could without being dragged into some of the nonsense that tended to plague his House. If Niamh was going to be spending that much time around Slytherin being tutored – it should be with what he knew were 'good people'. He didn't give a crap about bloodlines and social status. What counted were people that he knew 'had his back'.

"Feel free to look me up whenever you're around," said Flint sincerely.

"Yeah – us too," said Riyo as Blaise and Jade nodded. "We're having a little soiree in the Common Room tonight after Dinner. But what happens in Slytherin stays in Slytherin – agreed?"

"Deal. Nobody will hear a thing from me," said Niamh

She thought for a minute.

"What's a soiree?"

"Oops sorry about that. My family is French and that's all we speak at home. I have a tendency to mix French and English..."

"_Frenglish," _Niamh giggled.

"Keep that up and we will get along just fine," said Riyo.

Even though she didn't smile, they all somehow got the feeling that she quite liked the rather unfortunate Gryffindor.

"A soiree is a party," explained Zabini. "Slytherin parties are usually off the hook from what I heard."

"You're allowed to have parties?"

"Oh hell yeah!" said Flint. "Professor Snape is really cool when it comes to that sort of thing. There are two that happen every year. There's the Fall Fest – which you're coming to tonight. And then there is the Spring Spree – tend to have that one every April. There are other things too – but as long as our Head of House is kept in the loop and we don't get out of hand he's OK with it. Matter of fact, he was the one that started the Fest and Spree when he came back to teach."

"What? How'd you hear that?" asked Jade.

"My eldest brother; he was a student here when Professor Snape replaced old man Slughorn. The Professor said he thought it was important for House spirit and unity – and he's right. There is a lot of shit-stirring from the other houses when it comes to us. We are all tarnished with the same old brush. You'll see. Just watch how long it will take people from Gryffindor to slag us off ..."

"I already heard," Niamh sighed.

"I'm not surprised. So what have you heard?"

Niamh stepped in closely.

"_I heard there's never been a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin!"_

Flint rolled his eyes.

"I've always heard that too," Jade said to Niamh. "My grandparents will hit the roof when they find out about my Sorting. They wanted me to be in your House, like the rest of my family."

"I have heard that as well," added Riyo. "Although in my case, my father would have had my head on a stick if I hadn't made it into Slytherin. He believes that Salazar Slytherin had quite the right idea about certain things."

Niamh made a mental note to ask Severus about this Slytherin man. Professor McGonagall didn't really go into much detail about the four founders of the school. She suspected there were more interesting details that had to be known than the ones likely to be found Hermione's in favourite book, _'Hogwarts, A History'_.

"'Nuff said," added Blaise. "My family has always been in Slytherin. Only exception was my uncle Benny – landed in Hufflepuff. _Hufflepuff _– now I ask you?!"

"_Right _– first off it just so happens that one of the two most well-known Dark Wizards came from this school and he was a Slytherin. Yawn and Double Yawn; **ALL** of the Houses have produced them, not just this House," said Flint. "Matter of fact, the statistics show that more have come from Gryffindor than have ever come from this house. Ravenclaw is second highest and Slytherin is actually third. Even Hufflepuff makes a decent showing, if that's what you want to call it. They have only about three less than us! Professor Snape says that everyone is an amalgamation of all four houses; it's just that some qualities stand out more than others in each of us. In the end it's down to the choices we make and that has nothing to do with where you're sorted. He's known some Hufflepuffs that could give the goblins a run for their gold…and he's definitely right there!"

"He said that?" Riyo asked incredulously.

"Yep – told me in no uncertain terms."

"Here Flint – you friends with him or something?" asked Blaise.

The idea of it seemed ridiculous to him.

"I know what he's like, right? And you'll find out soon enough. But he's actually not a bad guy to have behind you if you stay out of his face. He knows his stuff. In words that you will understand Zabini, he is one TIGHT Motherfucker! If you're not afraid to ask hard, intelligent questions then he's not afraid to answer them – if he chooses. And he is loyal to Slytherin, no question. We are the most maligned House in the whole school. Slughorn only looked after himself and his own interests when he was here. He didn't give a crap about any of his students – especially in the last War. Professor Snape isn't easy – but he's a lot better when it counts than people will ever give him credit for. **All** the Heads of House look after their students – even the ones who like to think that they are so bloody fair with taking points off their own…you'll find out soon enough. Gryffindors can lie, cheat, steal, break the rules no end of times and the Headmaster won't bat an eyelash. And McGonagall isn't above breaking the rules for the sake of the House or Quidditch Cups; she wants to win them as much as the other Heads do. You watch; some Gryffindor or a few will have exceptions made for them that won't be extended to anyone else from another house…and our Head of House won't be afraid to address it either. It won't get him anywhere though. It never does – especially when he's right."

The Potions Master went up considerably in the eyes of his First Years. For Niamh, it just confirmed what an impressive yet overwhelmingly complex man she knew he was. But it was disturbing to hear the comments about Gryffindor.

'_Why did I have to be with them,'_ she thought frustratedly.

She quite liked these Slytherins, despite all that she'd heard from Ron Weasley. Ron was a nice lad – but he had no first-hand experience with anyone in this House. He wouldn't be going out of his way to make friends with anyone here – relatively few Gryffindors would from what she'd been told last night.

"So Niamh – what do you say to meeting me at 7:30? I can meet you outside the Potions Classroom," asked Flint disrupting her reverie. "It's OK that you know where the entrance to our Common Room is but that's not for anyone else to know, right?"

On her own people might give her some stick, but with him they'd keep their mouths shut. She'd be alright once people got to know her.

"Oh um – yeah – OK," Niamh said quietly. "Thanks…"

She glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Some were visibly glaring at her being so friendly with the most hated House in the school.

"_What's up with that – fraternising with the enemy!"_

"_Don't see why they just don't put her with them…"_

"_That just so is not on!"_

"_See – what did I tell you – no loyalty to Gryffindor…" (that comment came from none other than Percy Weasley)._

"_Why did we have to get stuck with her?"_

"I, um, better go sit over there…"

"You know – all of this House business is going to be right pain in the arse," hissed Jade.

"Hmmmph – don't have to say it twice," sniffed Flint.

Niamh said her goodbyes and crossed the Hall. She was stopped halfway by Cedric Diggory and there were were audible gasps from all four tables.

"Hey," he said quietly. "So – how's it going then? You alright?"

"It's OK, I guess…just a bit of an adjustment for someone like me."

Cedric wasn't sure what she meant, but now wasn't really the time to discuss it.

"McGonagall agreed to pair us up. I have a copy of your schedule already and you'll get mine when McGonagall hands out the timetables for your house. Once you have your schedule we can sort something out, maybe meet up later?"

"When do we get it?"

"Either just before or sometime during breakfast; Professor Sprout handed out ours already."

"Oh – um – OK."

"Great! See you in a little while then, yeah?"

Niamh nodded and then continued to make her way over to the Gryffindor table. She didn't dare look at Severus; no doubt he was steaming.

"Hey – sit here. Saved you a seat," said Neville.

"Don't mind Percy," said Ron. "He's an idiot."

"He's a boil on the butt of humanity," Niamh said loudly.

There were sniggers and guffaws along the table.

"Please – he's got two brain cells and they are fighting each other," said the girl seated next to Ron.

The foursome cracked up and so did those that heard the comment.

"I'm Laurels, by the way. Laurels Addams," the girl said standing and extending her hand across the table.

Niamh introduced herself and sat down.

"So – what gives with all this Slytherin business?" asked Ron. "I heard last night that you were Snape's kid?!"

Niamh rolled her eyes.

"Look: I don't have any family and I live in an orphanage. I didn't have good schooling so I'm going need extra help. Professor Snape was the one who had to bring me from Belfast to London and he's going to be tutoring me," she said.

"Rotten bad luck!" Ron spluttered.

"_Here are your timetables!"_ said Professor McGonagall as she swept down the table, providing a much-needed distraction. "First Years, it is customary to have an older student who will help get you acquainted with the school. Their timetable is attached yours and they will have a copy of yours in turn. Should you have any problems with your Big Brother or Sister then you are to come to me. We do our best to pair you up based on common interests and to try and foster Inter-House cooperation – but sometimes it takes a bit more than that for students to get on."

Niamh looked down at her timetable.

"Who'd you get?" asked Harry.

"_Cedric Diggory_ – the boy I was just talking too…"

"Oh – how did you manage that?" Ron said, not failing to hide that he thought Snape had something to do with it.

Laurels gave him a look.

"I would have thought _he'd_ have paired her up with a _Slytherin_, Ron!"

"Oh – erm – yeah. Good point. Sorry Niamh…this thing with Snape is weird..."

"Technically Professor McGonagall is my Legal Guardian and deals with Ministry stuff. How's that for '_weird''..." _Niamh sighed_._ She could already see that no matter what she had originally thought, being under the watchful eye of Professors Snape and McGonagall was not going to be easy in the Wizarding world.

**XxxOOOxxX**

The classroom had been buzzing with the nervous chatter of the First Year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Niamh was seated with Laurels and Fay across from Harry, Ron and Neville. All of them did their best to ignore Hermione Granger, who couldn't resist spouting off what had to be the entire contents of their textbook to everyone within earshot before class had even started.

"_Mental that one, I'm telling you," _Ron hissed under his breath.

_BANG! SLAM!_

The door to their classroom banged open and then slammed shut.

"_**There will be no silly incantations or foolish wand-waving in this class," **_hissed Professor Snape in the silky whisper of a voice he used in public as he swept to the front of the room.

He then quickly went through roll-call and made notes on his registry. For the next 5 minutes following that he continued with his introductory oration. Apparently he could offer the moon, stars and sun to a select few from judging on what he said he could do. He had looked pointedly at Malfoy when he said it. Already some in Gryffindor were left with the distinct impression that the petulant blonde was to be his favourite as Malfoy practically swooned at the thought of what he could learn from his dreaded Head of House.

"_Mister Potter _– our new _**celebrity**_," Snape sneered almost menacingly. "Apparently in possession of abilities so formidable that _you think you are not required to __PAY ATTENTION_!"

Harry was busy writing more useless notes about bottling fame, brewing glory and putting a stopper in death when Laurels gave him a nudge to make him stop.

"Tell me, Mister Potter – what is a Bezoar and where are you likely to find it?"

Harry looked at the Potions Master blankly while Hermione's hand shot up.

"You don't know?"

Snape's voice was almost deadly now.

"Tell me, Potter, what is the difference between Wolfsbane and Monkshood?"

"I don't know, Sir," came a quiet reply.

Snape kept on with his haranguing of The Boy Who Live through his unreasonable and very difficult quiz and Harry kept saying "I don't know, Sir," while Hermione frantically waved her hand in the air as though it were on fire. She then stood up trying to get his attention and continued with her foolish hand-waving. She looked like she was fitting to burst and needed to go to the loo.

"_Such a pity. It is quite clear that fame isn't everything, is it Mr. Potter."_

"It's quite clear that Hermione knows – it's a waste to not ask _her_!"

The class twittered and guffawed.

"**SILENCE!" **Snape hissed.

The room went so quiet you could hear a Doxy's droppings fall.

The Potions Master gave Harry a look that left no room for doubt that The Boy Who Lived was in the deepest of shit. He swooped down from the front of the room.

"_Put your hand down, you silly girl!" _he hissed at Hermione, causing her to well up with tears.

Even thought none of them could stand her, most of the Gryffindors thought that he was well out of order for being like that.

"_You don't want to mess with him – I told you," _came a quiet whisper from where the Slytherins sat.

Snape grabbed a spare stool and placed himself in front of Harry. He wasted no time getting in Harry's face to correct him. For almost 10 minutes he reeled off the answers to his informal quiz; and guaranteed that Harry would hate him from that moment forward.

He looked over at Niamh who was just listening.

"I don't recall you volunteering to answer one question, Miss Caeoimhin! With so little education you are the last person who should not be taking notes! Write this down – NOW!"

Niamh blinked rapidly and started writing with a shaky hand. Her parchment was turning into one giant ink blot. Snape looked disgusted.

"Another silly girl! Five points from Gryffindor – for such an incoherent mess!" he hissed as he grabbed the parchment and ripped it to shreds.

He then took another five because his hands got stained with Dove's Blood ink. Niamh was ordered to re-write all that he'd said. If it wasn't perfect in either content or form she would be facing detention with Filch for a week.

He looked around the room.

"_Well – why aren't __**you **__**all **__copying this down?!"_ he snapped through clenched teeth at the incredulous students.

Some of the Slytherins felt very sorry for Niamh; Jade, Riyo and Blaise gave her sympathetic looks as Snape walked angrily back to the front of the room.

"_And Gryffindors – ten points will be taken from your House for Mr. Potter's cheek!"_

Niamh blinked back hot tears as she bent over taking great care with her writing. It seemed that one thing that Percy Weasley had said was most definitely true. Professor Snape favoured the students in his House above all others. All others including her, it would seem.

**XxxOOOxxX**

"I heard what happened," Cedric said quietly.

He and Niamh sat in an isolated corner of the Gothic courtyard off of the school's bell tower with a packed lunch provided by the house-elves. He got on really well with them and treated them quite nicely so they were always happy to be of service they said. But Cedric didn't take advantage though he could have. He'd brought some tea-cosies his mother had knitted which he knew they liked to wear as hats in exchange for the lunches and other treats he went to the kitchens for on occasion. He never took anything without giving them something in return.

It wasn't necessary to ask how she was doing. It was written all over her face. Niamh didn't say anything, she just gave him a slight nod.

"You didn't deserve that – and Potter didn't either. Those ingredients and potions aren't even in the First Year text."

"It…it doesn't matter," she said in a hoarse voice. "He can't play favourites – not with _me _– all hell would break loose!"

Tears started streaming down her face and Cedric put an arm around her.

"I understand about the favourites thing with you. Honestly, I do. But what he did – was bang out of order even if it was to make a point."

Niamh couldn't help it. What happened had devastated her and all she could do was cry.

Cedric held her and did his best to comfort her as she gave into the hurt of it all.

**XxxOOOxxX**

The rest of the day passed uneventfully for the First Years. Niamh went back to Gryffindor Tower and spent the night doing homework and then playing cards with Neville and Laurels. In doing so she missed the Fall Fest, much to the dismay of Flint and the others. It didn't take a genius to figure out why she wasn't there; what Snape had done to her was hot gossip in the house of the serpent.

Even if Flint didn't like it – he understood why the Potions Master had done it.

"People would give her no end of grief if he didn't treat her like the rest of them," he said matter-of-factly. "As it is her Potions work will have to be monitored. You just know one of these days someone would accuse him of playing favourites when she does well off her own back. He's raised the bar himself without being forced to do it by Dumbledore."

"I see what you're saying," said Riyo. "But that was harsh! Surely there was another way?"

"You don't know him – _that _was mild, trust me. It could have been much worse for both of them. If Potter is smart he will go with the flow and not give Snape a reason to lay into him again. Niamh will watch herself – she's got a lot more going for her when it comes to that sort of thing I think."

"I think it will be a while before she gets over that one though," Blaise sighed.

"She's not here and that's saying something. I guess she is hanging with _them_ tonight…" Jade said irritably.

Their enjoyment of the party was somewhat dampened by the turmoil over the day's events and their missing friend.

Just because Snape was a complete arse didn't mean that Niamh wasn't welcome to come back to Slytherin.

**XxxOOOxxX**

Niamh stayed had stayed Gryffindor all afternoon. She went down to dinner alone. At table the best she managed was to push her food around her plate. Severus stole furtive glances at her, but not once did she look in his direction. Dumbledore was concerned, very concerned. So far he'd not managed to find the time he wanted to meet with her. It was important that they have a talk but other matters were far more pressing – his concerns with the one and only Harry Potter.

Neville and Laurels looked at each other surreptitiously. It was obvious that what happened had hit their housemate really hard. They had no idea what it made her feel like, having no knowledge of her background.

As far as Niamh was concerned, Snape might as well have been Sister Angelica and she might as well be back at Magdalene.

**XxxOOOxxX**

In the following days Niamh kept her head down and kept to herself.

Snape became increasingly taciturn and caustic.

Flint had informed his Head of House that Niamh been invited to the Fall Fest but then hadn't turned up despite agreeing to go. He'd waited for almost half an hour and all she'd done the following morning at breakfast was apologise but not explained why she'd stood him up. None of the three First Years Slytherins she was friendly with had spoken to her after Double Potions, the only class they had with the Gryffindors that day. No one had seen her at lunch. She'd come late to dinner and then left early too.

The hours and minutes ticked by slowly and Snape was increasingly filled with dread. He looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece in his sitting room. It was almost midnight – well past curfew. He'd prepared himself for bed but couldn't sleep. Severus quickly dressed once more and went out on night watch even though he wasn't required to do so. He searched high and low and there was no sign of Niamh to be found anywhere on the grounds, just as he knew there wouldn't be.

As he stood at the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, the Potions Master was filled with a pain the likes of which he'd only ever known but one time before in his life. He banished his worst memory from his unconsciousness and headed back to his quarters.


End file.
